A Year of Toujours Pur
by Screaming Faeries
Summary: Drabbles/Oneshots for 2016, focusing on the Black family and relating friends/pairings. Written mainly for the '366 Days of Writing' Challenge. Most Recent: #80: "James's Quaffles"
1. Your Last Love

**Written For:  
** \- Day 1 of 366 Days of Writing challenge: Open  
\- The 2016 Monthly Prompt List Challenge (January): [Quote] ""He's your first love. I intend to be your last. However long it takes."  
\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Vampire Diaries Quotes: _Same as above_

 **Pairing/Characters:** Rabastan/Andromeda

 **Word Count:** 496

* * *

 **Your Last Love**

 _I don't know how you get over someone as dangerous, tainted and flawed as you._

oOo

 _Tap, tap._

Pebbles were showering against Andromeda's window during the night, and she sighed, burrowing her head further into her duvet. She knew who it was, and she didn't want to see him.

 _Tap, tap._

"Eurgh," she groaned, pulling the pillow over her head. If he carried on, he would wake Narcissa up in the bedroom next door to hers—and then the whole of Grimmauld Place would know about it.

 _Tap, tap._ "Just open the window," the faint, familiar voice of her smooth-mouthed family friend drifted through Andromeda's protective mound of pillows and covers. "I'm not going anywhere!"

Rolling her eyes furiously, Andromeda threw back the covers and jumped out of bed. She tiptoed over to the window and opened it, and a sudden sharp, wintry draft rushed through the open glass. She shivered and rubbed her arms, hoping that he would be quick with whatever he wanted to say—she was only wearing a thin nightshirt. "What do you want?"

Andromeda looked out onto the lawn at the man who was interrupting her slumber—Rabastan Lestrange. Despite it being close to one in the morning, Rabastan was wearing a full set of tuxedo dress robes, as though he had just come from a lavish event: which, knowing the Lestranges, was probably the case.

"You know what I want," Rabastan replied softly. His pale skin stood out ethereally against the darkness of the night, and his dark eyes glittered. "I want to change your mind."

"I'm leaving tomorrow," Andromeda hissed. "There's nothing you can do to stop me. And if you think that you can scare me by saying you will tell my parents, I don't care —I'll be gone before they wake up."

Rabastan flapped a hand. "If I wanted to tell them that you were planning to run away from home to be with a Mudblood, I would've done it already."

Andromeda's blood flared. "Don't call Ted that!" she snapped, and Rabastan rolled his eyes.

"Just hear me out." Andromeda leaned against the wall and shrugged, waiting for him to go on. "All I've ever wanted, ever since I saw you at that mixer, was to be with you. And not just because you're a Black—I'm not as shallow as my brother. When we spoke at the bar - I saw so much of myself in you. We're meant to be together, Andromeda."

Andromeda folded her arms, but her expression had softened. It was true that she had a small soft spot for Rabastan, but she loved Ted. "I'm going, Rabastan. I'm sorry." She made to shut the window, but he held up his hand.

"Wait," he whispered into the darkness. She looked out at him expectantly. "It's okay. I get it. He's your first love." Rabastan paused, taking a breath, and his face hardened, a knowing smirk on his face. "I intend to be your last. _However_ long that takes."


	2. The Ladies Club

**Written For:  
** \- Day 2 of 366 Days of Writing challenge: Bond  
\- The 2016 Monthly Prompt List Challenge (January): [item] Handbag  
\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Sex & The City: (dialogue) "He has a tiny little penis, but he knows exactly how to use it.", (object) Cigarette Holder, (object) Playing Cards

 **Pairing/Characters:** Druella, Walburga

 **Word Count:** 484

* * *

 **The Ladies Club**

 _You like me even when I'm mean; I'm the Queen._

oOo

Druella held out her cigarette holder to Walburga, and the latter gave her friend a thankful nod before taking one and popping swiftly into the corner of her mouth. The sisters-in-law had met for their weekly catch-up, while their husbands spent the evening playing Wizarding Golf.

At least, that's what they told Walburga and Druella. Walburga had heard that a gentlemen's only club had opened underground in a small wizarding community a couple of miles away, and she had a hunch that they were visiting the club. Orion always came home with much lighter pockets than what he went out with. She had no idea what went on at the club—nor did she want to.

Plus, the ladies enjoyed each others company every Friday night. Their husbands thought that they watched the children together, maybe cleaned or cooked or did other wife-like things, but they couldn't be more wrong. Instead, Walburga and Druella took the gentlemen's lounge at Grimmauld Place, uncorked Orion's favourite scotch, and set to playing poker.

Druella reached into her handbag for her wand, and used it to light the tip of her own cigarette and then Walburga's. After she replaced the wand, she took a deep drag and leaned back in her chair, blowing the smoke out of the corner of her mouth. "This week has taken _forever_ to pass, 'Burga. I'm so glad Friday has finally come around—I've missed you terribly this week."

"Oh, Druella, you're a sweetheart," cooed Walburga, her cigarette lolling out of her mouth as she shuffled her cards. "Tell me all about it."

"Your brother has been quite the nuisance this week, while he's had time out of work," Druella lowered her voice and put a hand to her mouth, as if Cygnus was lurking and listening around the corner. "In the boudoir."

Walburga cocked a thin blonde eyebrow, always eager to know any of her brother's embarrassing secrets. "Do tell."

"He has been so _into_...ah, our bedroom antics, ever since Bellatrix turned two. I don't know what has come over him, but personally, I can only ever manage about two consecutive days."

Walburga snigger, putting a hand over her mouth politely. "Does my brother have...a _problem_ , when it comes to the boudoir?"

"Well, now that you mention it," Druella pressed her lips together into a small, mischievous smile. "Your brother has a _tiny_ little penis. But he knows exactly how to use it."

A loud, thin cackle echoed through the gentlemen's lounge as Walburga laughed loudly, dropping her cards in the process. "My gosh, Druella, you do entertain me," she choked between giggles, trying to scoop up her cards. As she calmed, down, she leaned back in her chair, smiling at her friend. "You really are a great friend to me. I hope our bond never breaks."


	3. Shattered

**Written For:**

\- Day 3 of 366 Days of Writing challenge: Spell

\- The 2016 Monthly Prompt List Challenge (January): [Quote] "Whenever I'm sad, I stop being sad, and be awesome instead." ~ How I Met Your Mother

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Genre Prompts: (word) Bummer, (word) Understand, (title) Shattered, (plot point) Character has their heart broken

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Feelings & Emotions: Bitter, Miserable, Confused

 **Pairing/Characters:** Sirius, Regulus

 **Word Count:** 695

* * *

 **Shattered**

 _"For a little piece of heaven, I am ready, I am willing to drown."_

oOo

The sun was only just rising over the busy London skyline outside, when Sirius woke up to the sound of soft, gentle snuffles. He and his brother were spending a week of the summer holidays at the Malfoy Manor, something which Sirius abhorred, as he did not get on with Lucius Malfoy at all - but his mother had insisted.

The sobbing was coming from the bed across from him, where Regulus was sleeping. "Reg?" Sirius whispered into the dimly-lit room, trying to keep his voice down so as to not wake up anyone else in the Manor. "Reg, what's up?"

"Leave me alone," grumbled Regulus thickly; he sounded utterly miserable. Sirius had a strange sense of deja vu - when Sirius and Regulus were much younger, they used to share a bedroom. Regulus was always a sensitive child, and would often spend hours at night in fits of tears.

There had only ever been one way to calm him down.

Sirius slipped out of his bed carefully and tip-toed over to his brother, sliding into bed behind him. Regulus was curled up in a tight, protective ball, facing the wall, but Sirius made room in the single bed and pulled the covers over their heads. "Tell me what's up, Reg."

Regulus sighed. "Bella found out about Barty. She told Mum."

Sirius raised his eyebrows in the darkness. He had suspected of Regulus's relationship with his fellow Slytherin, Barty Crouch Jr, but he had never said anything. Sirius and Regulus weren't really that close, and he didn't think it was his business. Regulus never made anything public, so Sirius never asked. That was all there was to it.

As Sirius had spent most of the summer pretending he was at Hogwarts, when he was in fact staying with the Potters, he hadn't heard about the news—something that he was _sure_ he would do, living with Walburga Black. "Wh...what did she say?" Sirius asked quietly.

"Went crazy, obviously," Regulus said bitterly. "She doesn't want to believe it—you know what she's like. She didn't tell Dad, though, because he would go _mental_ —I guess she just doesn't want the embarrassment. But she's banned me from even _speaking_ to him, ever again. She's never going to let me go over to the Crouches now."

"Bummer, bro," Sirius replied, though he was furrowing his brow together. Regulus was a lot different to him, in the sense that he felt he definitely needed to do what their parents said. Sirius always had a penchant for breaking any rules that were set. "You'll still see him at school. It's not like Mum is going to be there - she'll never know."

Regulus elbowed Sirius roughly in the stomach, causing the older brother to groan. "Idiot," he snapped. "Mum will probably do some weird spell to make me tell the truth. And anyway, Bella knows."

"Bella isn't at school anymore either," Sirius answered, confused.

"Yeah, but Cissy is. And so are loads of Bellatrix's weird friends—Rabastan is in his seventh year _and_ in Slytherin. It's alright for you—you don't have to be around them all the time!"

Sirius sighed, feeling unsure as to what to say to him. It was a situation that he didn't really understand—Regulus was so different to him in so many ways. "Well...how do you feel? I know, that's a stupid question."

"My heart is broken obviously," Regulus muttered into his pillow. "Barty is my only friend at school, and...and..." his voice cracked. "I love him."

"Don't be sad, Reg," Sirius said, feeling even more awkward. "I mean—whenever I'm sad, I stop being said, and be awesome instead."

When Sirius finished talking, a silence filled the bedroom, which was eventually broken by a small snigger, which Regulus tried to mask by burying his face further into the pillow. "I heard you," Sirius chuckled.

"You're an idiot," Regulus giggled, letting out his laughter. It passed quickly though, and he soon melted back into the mattress and sighed. Sirius reflected his sigh, and threw an arm over his brother, pulling him in to a hug.

"You'll be okay, bro," he told his little brother softly. "Everything will work out fine."


	4. Pussycat Blues

**Written For:**

\- Day 4 of 366 Days of Writing challenge: Enchant

\- The 2016 Monthly Prompt List Challenge (January): [word] Family

\- Chocolate Frog Card Club: Gulliver Pokeby (Bronze) - Write about, or include, a pet in your story.

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Genre: (word) Gloom

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Karl Pilkington: (quote) "Apparently you're not allowed to lick a toad's back."

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Emotions & Feelings: Delighted, Ecstatic, Kind

 **Pairing/Characters:** Narcissa, Andromeda

 **Word Count:** 746

* * *

 **Pussycat Blues**

 _Happiness hit her like a train on a track, coming towards her, stuck still no turning back._

oOo

"It's not fair!" Andromeda heard her little sister chirp, before stomping her feet loudly and storming out of the drawing room, where she had been conversing with their mother. Druella sighed loudly, and closed the door behind Narcissa.

As Narcissa charged up the stairs, her cascade of white-blonde hair whipping behind her, Andromeda resisted the urge to roll her eyes, but she followed after her nonetheless. Narcissa had slammed her bedroom door shut quickly, but Andromeda was bigger and stronger than her, and she managed to push through into the bedroom easily.

"Go away, Andy!" sulked Narcissa. She was sitting on her bed with her knees pulled up against her chest, and a gloomy look upon her face. "I don't want to talk to you!"

"Were you asking Mum for a cat again?" Andromeda asked, feeling the corners of her mouth twitch upwards. It wasn't the first time that seven-year-old Narcissa had begged their mother for a kitten, ever since she had first fallen in love with a giant white kneazle at Magical Menagerie.

A few months before now, Narcissa had come rushing home, delighted about finding an abandoned old tomcat in the back garden. It had a collar on and a name tag, proving that it probably belonged to one of the Muggle neighbours, but Narcissa didn't care. She had begged their eldest sister, Bellatrix, to enchant the cat so that it was invisible, but Bellatrix had simply cackled, and proceeded to promptly tell their parents what Narcissa had brought home.

"It's not fair. You have your owl," Narcissa grumbled, referencing to Andromeda's grey-white owl, a gift from their uncle. It was irrelevant, however, as the owl remained outside in the barn unless someone needed to use it, and Andromeda hardly counted it as a pet. "Bellatrix has her..." she shuddered. "That mean old spider. _Why_ won't Mum let me have a cat?"

Andromeda sighed. "You know that Mum doesn't like furry animals, Cissy," she said kindly. "That's why Bella has the tarantula. Can't you...can't you ask Mum for a toad, or something?"

Narcissa gave Andromeda a stoic glare. "Apparently, you're not allowed to lick a toad's back."

Andromeda couldn't hide her smile this time, and she burst into a sudden peal of laughter, causing Narcissa to fold her arms angrily and pout. "I'm sorry, Cis," spluttered Andromeda through giggles. "What are you talking about?"

"I don't want a toad, okay?!" snapped Narcissa, and she turned to face the window at the side of her bed. "Just leave me alone! You're just like Mum."

* * *

A couple of days later, Andromeda was stood outside Grimmauld Place with her favourite cousin, Sirius. "Thanks for sneaking out to Diagon Alley with me, Sirius," she whispered to him, knowing that Aunt Walburga would be twitching the curtains.

"No problem. Lets go give Narcissa her present." They both walked into the house together, hurriedly rushing up the stairs before Walburga could catch them and demand to know where they had been. Narcissa was sitting upstairs in the children's lounge, playing with a set of dolls.

"Cissy, we've got you a present!" Andromeda exclaimed, closing the door behind her. She set the box down that she had been holding, and sat against the door, preventing anyone from coming in. Narcissa spun around from her position on the rug, eyeing the box with suspicion. She looked from Sirius to Andromeda doubtfully.

"What is it?"

"Open it, and find out."

Narcissa crawled over to Andromeda, and sat in front of the box. She carefully peeled back the tape that secured the box, and sqeualed ecstatically. "Andy!" she cried, a grin spreading across her face. Andromeda put a finger to her lips, nodding towards the door, but she was smiling too.

A tiny kitten crawled out of the box—only it wasn't like any cat that any of them had seen before. It was pale pink and hairless, with wide, bulbous green eyes and a podgy little belly.

It wasn't as cute as the kneazle that Narcissa had grown attached to, or to the moggy she had brought in from the street. But Andromeda knew that Narcissa would still love it.

As the little hairless cat settled in Narcissa's arms, the youngest sister looked up at Andromeda, her eyes filling with tears. "Thank you, Andy. You're the best sister ever."

"That's what family is for."


	5. Little Brother

**Written For:**

\- Day 5 of 366 Days of Writing challenge: The Great Hall

\- The 2016 Monthly Prompt List Challenge (January): The Sorting Hat

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/HP Locations: The Great Hall

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Emotions & Feelings: Anxious, Nervous, Awkward

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Proverbs: "Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery."

 **Pairing/Characters:** Regulus

 **Word Count:** 326

* * *

 **Little Brother**

 _And in the spring I shed my skin, and it blows away with the changing wind._

"Regulus Black!"

Regulus ambled up to the front of the Great Hall anxiously, feeling the eyes of every one of his peers burning into his back. As he sat down on the stool, he met familiar dark eyes of several members of his family—the majority of which were sat at the Slytherin table, and one of whom was at the other side of the Great Hall.

It wasn't Sirius that was making Regulus nervous, though. It was the judgemental perceptions of his cousins. Whilst Regulus wished he could have Sirius's daring and outgoing personality, it just wasn't the way he was. He wanted to keep people happy; to have a quiet life. He didn't want people looking down at him—especially not the way that they did to Sirius.

Professor McGonagall placed the dusty old hat on his head, and it slipped down over his eyes, filling his nostrils with it's musty smell. He was glad the hat covered his vision, as he no longer had to make awkward eye contact with everyone else in the Great Hall.

 _Another Black, hmm? You folks breed like rabbits._

Regulus let the Sorting Hat's voice penetrate his mind, and he bit into his bottom lip nervously.

 _I would say I know just where to put you, but recent developments in your family render me...a little unsure._

"Not Gryffindor," Regulus mouthed, quiet enough for only the Sorting Hat to hear.

 _Are you sure? Your older brother makes a fantastic Gryffindor. Don't you want to be like him? They do say that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery._

"Not for me."

 _Well, I suppose you've made up my mind._ "SLYTHERIN!" the hat bellowed, and McGonagall whipped the hat off his head.

As he hurried over to the Slytherin table, he was filled with relief—but he did his best to avoid Sirius's disappointed expression.


	6. Not Yet A Woman

**Written For:  
** \- Day 6 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Awaken  
\- 2016 Monthly Prompt Challenge (January): (word) Dollhouse  
\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Said Synonyms: muttered, ordered, snapped, hissed, begged  
\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Family & Friends: child, sister

 **Pairings/Characters:** Cedrella, Callidora

 **Word Count:** 464

* * *

 **Not Yet A Woman**

 _Regrets collect like old friends, here to relive your darkest moments._

Callidora walked into the large bedroom that she shared with her younger sister, Cedrella, and scowled at her back. Cedrella was sitting in front of the old wooden dollhouse that the three sisters used to play with as children— _used to,_ in Callidora and Charis's case. It appeared that sixteen-year-old Cedrella still had an interest in playing with the little wooden dolls and furniture.

"What are you doing?" Callidora demanded to know, making Cedrella flinch and spin around to face her. She frowned at her older sister.

"Playing in the dollhouse," she muttered, turning back to it. "What does it look like?"

Callidora sighed loudly and closed the bedroom door behind her, before heading over to her bed and sitting on top of the covers. She watched Cedrella's slightly moving frame observantly, noticing the way that she had pulled the thick cloak she was wearing around her protectively, since Callidora had entered the bedroom.

"It's the middle of summer, Cedrella. Take off that cloak."

"I'm a little cold, actually," Cedrella replied quickly. Her response was too quick; too prepared. Callidora smirked, and swung her legs off the bed, walking over to her little sister.

"Take it off," she ordered, and Cedrella whipped around again, narrowing her eyes.

"I said _no_ , Callidora!"

Callidora groaned loudly. "Take it off, and stop playing around with dolls! The only reason mother allows you to keep it around is because she thinks you will pass it on to your own children—which you will be doing, sooner rather than later," she added the last comment in a low hiss, which caused Cedrella's eyes to widen.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she snapped defensively.

"You need to stop acting like a baby and awaken the woman that you're becoming, Cedrella," went on Callidora smoothly. She reached over and grabbed at her cloak. Cedrella tried in vain to keep it wrapped around her, to no avail—Callidora managed to pull the cape from Cedrella's person and throw it to the other side of the room, leaving her looking extremely vulnerable in her skimpy nightshirt.

She wrapped her hands around her body protectively, but it was too late—Callidora had already seen the swollen bump that was in place of Cedrella's usually flat stomach. "I knew it! It's the blood traitor's, isn't it?" Callidora hissed triumphantly. Cedrella's eyes swam with tears.

"Please, 'Dora," she begged, her bottom lip quivering. "You can't tell Father. You know how angry will be," she hoped that Callidora would listen to her pleas, but it was pointless. Her older sister's eyes were glittering cruelly.

"Its time to act your age, Cedrella," she said, heading over to the bedroom door and opening it. "Grow up."


	7. Paranoia

**Written For:**

\- Day 7 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Mirror

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank: Charmed: (Dialogue) "You're up early." / "I never went to sleep."

 **Pairing/Characters:** Cygnus/Druella

 **Word Count:** 337

* * *

 **Paranoia**

 _My man is crazy and his mind is a knife, but I like him—fact, I love him._

When Druella entered the kitchen and lit up the room, she was surprised to discover her husband, Cygnus, sitting at the table. He looked rough and dishevelled; his smart suit robes were hanging open at the neck, the shadow of stubble was fresh around his chin and neck, and there were heavy purple bags beneath his eyes. He was nursing a tumbler of Firewhiskey, with the nearly empty bottle sitting in the middle of the table.

Druella was appalled. Cygnus was usually a refined and controlled man; he never allowed himself to appear anything other than pristine, and he rarely ever drank _—_ especially not to this level. She carefully edged over to the table and sat down opposite him. "You're up early."

"I never went to sleep," snapped Cygnus.

"Cygnus, dear?" Druella continued in a delicate voice, reaching over to remove the Firewhiskey bottle from his reach. "Are you okay?"

"It's time you told the truth, Druella," he slurred, throwing a dark glare in his wife's direction. She sat back, her eyes widening.

"I'm sorry?"

"She's not mine, is she?"

"I _—_ what are you talking about, Cygnus?"

Cygnus whirled around in his chair, pointing over to the picture of their three young daughters that sat above the pantry cupboard. Bellatrix and Andromeda, the older two, stood either side of their youngest sister, Narcissa. Unlike her older sisters, Narcissa had pale blonde hair and wide blue eyes _—_ completely opposite to Bellatrix and Andromeda's thick, dark locks and ebony eyes.

"When I look at Bella and Andromeda, it's like looking into a mirror," Cygnus went on, his voice cracking. "But not Narcissa. Whose is she, Druella? When did you do it?"

Druella stood up sharply, glaring down at her husband. "You're drunk," she snapped, her mouth pressing into a thin line. She turned to walk away from him, but stopped at the doorway. "I don't know how you could think so little of me."


	8. Love Me For Me

**Written For:**

\- Day 8 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Hidden

 **Pairing/Characters:** Walburga, Alphard

 **Word Count:** 379

* * *

 **Love Me For Me**

 _I must become a lion hearted girl, ready for a fight._

Walburga shrunk back in her hiding place in the laundry cupboard as feet padded past, but her brother's giggling told her that she had already been discovered. Alphard's dark eyes and grinning face appeared in the crack of the door, surprising her. She scowled at him. "Go away, Al!" she hissed.

"Why are you hidden in there?" he questioned, bending down to peer inside. Unlike six year old Walburga, who was fairly skinny and short enough to squeeze into narrow spots like the laundry cupboard, Alphard would have never fitted inside.

"Will you be quiet?" Walburga snapped, peering behind Alphard into the kitchen and lowering her voice. "Mother is trying to make me have one of those dreadful etiquette lessons again."

"Well, you have to go for them."

Walburga glowered at him. "You and Cygnus never have to attend!"

Alphard puffed out his chest proudly. "That's because Mother doesn't think we _need_ etiquette, Walburga. Also, you need good manners if you intend to secure a husband when you're older."

"I'm never going to get married," Walburga replied nonchalantly, folding her arms over her chest. "I _hate_ boys, and I hate etiquette."

"You shouldn't glare and pout like that, Walburga," Alphard continued. "And you _really_ shouldn't say how much you hate things—it's not ladylike. No man would ever _want_ to marry you with that terrible attitude." The corners of Alphard's lips were tugging upwards—he always knew how to wind up Walburga.

"I don't care!" Walburga shrieked suddenly. "I don't want a smelly husband who won't like me for who I am! I hate being polite and quiet and stupid!" she pushed past Alphard as she climbed out of the cupboard, and came face-to-face with Irma Black, who was standing in the entryway of the kitchen. "Mother," Walburga stammered quickly, resisting the urge to shrink back into her cupboard.

"There you are, Walburga," Irma replied huffily. "I've been looking for you everywhere!" She reached forward, grabbing her daughter by the wrist. "Now, come along to the drawing room—we have lots to do today!"

As Walburga was dragged away by her mother, she turned back to stare at her grinning brother, and stuck out her tongue rudely.


	9. Together, Forever

**Written For:**

\- Day 9 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Together

 **Pairing/Characters:** Sirius/Remus

 **Word Count:** 124

* * *

 **Together, Forever**

 _Sweeter than heaven, and hotter than hell._

"I think you're making a _huge_ mistake."

Remus was sitting at the edge of his bed, facing Sirius, who was leaning back on the pillows, looking up at the ceiling. "Don't talk rubbish," he scoffed. "It's only one winter."

"Your mum lets you go to the Potters' because they're wealthy and Pureblood, even though she doesn't like them," Remus replied, fidgeting with a loose thread on his blanket. "But if she finds out you're going to come to mine instead..."

Sirius rolled his eyes dramatically and leaned forward, taking Remus's hands and looking into his eyes. "She won't know. She won't even _care_ , Remus. I want to spend Christmas with you—just me and you, together."


	10. A Brother's Love

**Written For:**

\- Chocolate Frog Cards: Cornelius Agrippa (Bronze): Challenge: Write about someone who has been punished unfairly, or for something they didn't do.

\- Day 10 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Filthy

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Charmed: (Action) Grabbing someone by the neck, (Word) Truth

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Exclamations: 'a bone to pick'

 **Pairings/Characters:** Walburga, Regulus, Sirius

 **Word Count:** 682

* * *

 **A Brother's Love**

 _You can't hold me down, 'cause I belong to the hurricane, It's gonna blow this all away._

" _Sirius Orion Black!"_ a dreadful voice screeched from the living room below. Sirius looked over at the door from behind his Muggle motorbike magazine and sighed loudly. "Come down here now!"

He threw the magazine to the bed and groaned as he made his way downstairs, desperately trying to think about what he could've done wrong this time. It was the winter holidays of his fifth year at Hogwarts, and he had been trying his best to stay out of his mother's way. That, however, was easier said than done.

As soon as he walked through the living room door, a bony, sharp-nailed hand clawed at his neck and grabbed his throat, shoving him roughly into the wall. His mother, though now a couple of inches shorter than him, was standing in front of him, preventing him from moving. Sirius glowered down at his mother, trying to look unfazed.

"I have a bone to pick with you!" she snarled, her thin eyebrows knitting together and her dark eyes glittering cruelly. Sirius noticed the family's pathetic house-elf lurking in the background, pretending to polish a metal plaque that sat on the dresser. He was, however, shooting glances in Sirius's direction.

"What have I done now?" Sirius snapped, earning himself a rough shove from his mother. His father, who was reading the _Daily Prophet_ on the couch, sighed bitterly.

"Walburga, you don't have to handle him so roughly."

Walburga ignored Orion, and he went straight back to reading his newspaper. Sirius inwardly cursed his father's cowardice—why were the patriarchs of this family always so afraid of their wives? "Kreacher tells me that you've had a little visitor today," she sneered, her voice low and condescending.

Sirius cocked an eyebrow. Of course he hadn't brought one of his friends here. Why would he? There's no way in the world that he would ever be tempted to invite one of them _here_ , where they would likely have to face his vicious mother and cowardly father, and probably get caught up by one of the old house's many dark booby traps. "I don't know what that horrible runt is talking about, but he's lying!"

"Tell the truth, boy!" Walburga hissed. "It was your filthy little werewolf friend, wasn't it?" her eyes flashed at the look of shock that passed Sirius's face. "Oh yes, I know all about him! I have eyes all over Hogwarts, my dear."

"I didn't bring anyone here, for Merlin's sake!" yelled Sirius, spraying spittle in his mother's face. "Why would I want any of my friends to come to this mad house?" he was cut from saying anything else, as Walburga slashed her palm across Sirius's face, the sound of the slap cracking through the room. She let go of her son, and Sirius crumpled to the floor, cupping his face.

"You're a horrible little child," she hissed, glaring down at him. "And you're going to be punished for bringing filth into the proud house of my fathers!"

oOo

Sirius emerged from the living room thirty minutes later, his thighs and behind sore from Walburga's slaps. He was angry, flushed and embarrassed at being punished in such a childish, mortifying way. A pair of dark eyes observed him from the darkness of the stairway, and Regulus shuffled forwards, looking guilty.

"Did you tell her?" he whispered, fidgeting with his thumbs. Sirius couldn't help but glare at his younger brother.

"Did I tell her that you sneaked in Barty Crouch Junior for the night; the boy whose father put half of her friends in Azkaban?" Sirius muttered, rubbing the backs of his legs. "Did I tell her she'd mistaken him for one of my friends? No, I didn't."

Regulus shuffled from foot to foot, looking down at he floor. "I'm sorry, Sirius," he mumbled.

Sirius's heart lifted a little, and he walked over to Regulus, placing his hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, bro," he said quietly. "I wouldn't let you take the wrath."


	11. Under My Skin

**Written For:**

\- Day 11 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Curiosity

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Pairings: Lucius/Druella

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Charmed: (Location) Hotel, (Action) Kissing someone on the neck

 **Pairings/Characters:** Lucius/Druella

 **Word Count:** 420

* * *

 **Under My Skin**

 _I'd sacrifice anything come what might, for the sake of having you near._

Lucius was a good son through and through. He did what he had to do for his family, and that included proposing to Narcissa Black, the youngest daughter and princess of the House of Black.

He did it properly, on one knee in the drawing room at Grimmauld Place, with their respective relatives surrounding them. It wasn't a surprise, but Narcissa still placed a hand over her mouth in feign shock, and wiped a few invisible tears from her eyes.

Lucius would do whatever he could to keep the Malfoy family in good wealth and pride. A Malfoy hadn't married a Black in several generations, a fact which filled Abraxas with pride, and therefore made Lucius extremely happy.

However, most of his happiness was like Narcissa's feigned shock. Of course, Narcissa was beautiful, like ivory, and she was a perfect addition to his family. She fitted in just perfectly with his father and relatives, and her chunk of the inheritance would go down well when it came to buying property. But Lucius found it hard to open up his heart to Narcissa, and truly let her in.

He liked his women real. He liked them soft and pliable, with soft handfuls of flesh that he could grab and nip with his teeth. He liked long, thick, flowing hair and plush lips that opened to moan his name, a sound that would resonate through him. He liked women who filled him with curiosity, like Narcissa's mother, Druella, who was nothing like her youngest daughter.

Narcissa was made from porcelain and glass; when they had intercourse, Lucius had to take care not to break her. He moved in slow, rhythmic motions, and they both remained silent as they rocked together. Her make-up never smudged, and not one hair on her shiny blonde hair fell out of place.

It was more than once that Lucius found himself in the darkness of a hotel in Whitechapel, pressing his lips carefully to the pale flesh of Druella's neck. She was twice his age, but she was all woman; a woman whose needs had not been satisfied for a long time. Lucius wanted nothing more than to fulfil those needs.

They kept the lights off so that they wouldn't have to face their sins; but Lucius knew full well what he was doing. It was too late to stop it, however. Druella Black was well and truly under his skin.


	12. Eyes of a Panther

**Written For:**

\- Day 12 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Diagon Alley

\- Hopscotch: four prompts: Diagon Alley (location), Gryffindor (word), allow (word), panther (word)

 **Pairings/Characters:** Bellatrix, Andromeda, Rodolphus, Rabastan

 **Word Count:** 274

* * *

 **Eyes of a Panther**

 _If you lie down with dogs, you'll get fleas - be careful of the company you keep._

"I know what you're doing, Bellatrix," Andromeda murmured as her older sister hurried her through the cobbled streets of Diagon Alley. "I'm not going to allow it."

Bellatrix spun around mid-walk, her hair flipping over her shoulder and her robes swirling around her ankles. She was scowling, her thin brows knitted together. "You're not going to allow _what,_ exactly? You're not going to allow my fiancé's brother to propose to you? And why not?"

Andromeda pursed her lips together. "I'm not ready for that kind of commitment, Bella."

Bellatrix grabbed her sisters hand, snarling. "Well, you had better get ready, because it's happening." She paused. "I hope this isn't about that filthy Gryffindor mudblood; Ted Tonks, was it?" A suspicious spark appeared in Bellatrix's eye, and Andromeda felt her cheeks burning.

"Ted Tonks is in Hufflepuff. And no, I told you—he's just my Potions partner."

"Hm," Bellatrix answered, clearly disbelieving. "Lets go."

They walked further through the alley until they reached the sign for Knockturn Alley, and Bellatrix announced that they were to wait for the Lestrange brothers there. Andromeda groaned inwardly, wishing she hadn't allowed herself to be talked into this.

Within minutes, Rodolphus and Rabastan were stalking towards them. Andromeda's eyes focused on Rabastan—he was like a panther, all black shiny suit and slicked back, dark hair. There was even a predatory glimmer in his eyes, and that alone made Andromeda nervous.

With a deep breath, she readied herself for what was bound to be the worst date of her life.


	13. Labour Pains

**Written For:**

\- Day 13 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Shatter

\- Speed Drabble: suit, "Don't do it.", "Ew, that's revolting!"

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Charmed: (Action) Smashing a bottle over someone's head, (Action) Smashing a mirror

 **Pairings/Characters:** Walburga, Orion

 **Word Count:** 406

* * *

 **Labour Pains**

 _A kick in the teeth is good for some, a kiss with a fist is better than none._

"Mister Black, you must be the only man I've ever met to attend his wife's birth in a suit!" the bustling Mediwitch chuckled as she hurried from the kitchen to the living room, where Walburga was sprawled out on a mattress on the floor.

Walburga, ever a proud woman even in labour, had insisted that Orion wait outside until she felt that she was modest and appropriate enough for him to enter. "Well, it's an important occasion," Orion replied. "The birth of my first son; heir to our fortune and family name."

"ORION!" screeched Walburga suddenly, and the unmistakable sound of glass shattering followed. The medic hurried in first, and Orion followed, taking in the scene. Walburga was nowhere near as modest as she had hoped she would be.

The mirror over the mantle had been smashed, and reflective glass had fallen over and surrounding Walburga's mattress. She was sprawled in the centre of the mattress, positioned slightly above a suspicious looking damp patch, and was laying back with her legs spread wide apart. Orion didn't know where to look - he'd never seen his wife so exposed.

"You son-of-a..." Walburga gasped, narrowing her dark eyes in Orion's direction. He had never seen such anger and distaste across her face, mixed in with the inevitable pain of labour. Her eyes suddenly swivelled around wildly, until they landed on an empty mead bottle just an arms length away.

"Don't do it!" Orion begged nervously, holding up his arms in surrender, but it was too late. The moment that Walburga's hand made contact with the bottle, she was hurling it towards him at breakneck speed, and he felt woozy as it shattered over his skull. Some of old mead remained in the bottle, and the cold, sticky liquid seeped down his back. "Ew, that's revolting!" he exclaimed, wiping the back of his neck and trying to get the worst of it out of his suit.

"You're crowning, Miss Walburga!" the medic cooed excitedly, taking position in front of Walburga. She navigated Orion so that he was kneeling next to him, facing his wife's most intimate area.

She curled back and fisted her hands in the sheets, screaming. Orion couldn't help but sigh.

And here Walburga wanted _two_ children. She could barely manage the labour of the first one!


	14. Let Her Go

**Written For:**

\- Day 14 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Silly

\- Speed Drabble: Tomorrow, "Don't you understand why I need to do this?", Narcissa/LilyEvans

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Narcissa Pairings: Narcissa/Lily

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/My Mad Fat Diary: "Did you think you could just slip out of the world with nothing happening because of it? Do you think anyone can do that?", "How do you ever get over someone? How do you move on?", "Having this big secret that could come out at any moment...it's horrible."

 **Pairings/Characters:** Narcissa/Lily

 **Word Count:** 596

* * *

 **Let Her Go**

 _Tell my love to wreck it all, cut out all the ropes and let me fall._

"Don't you understand why I need to do this?"

Narcissa and Lily were knelt down in the middle of Lily's bedroom, holding hands. Narcissa was the one speaking, staring forward at Lily with her eyes full of tears, but Lily didn't appear convinced. She tossed her curtain of auburn hair over her shoulder, scoffing.

"You're just being silly, Cissy," she told her, laughing—though the giggle was half-hearted. "You say stuff like this all the time—by tomorrow, you'll be straight back round here." She leaned forward to press her mouth to Narcissa's, but Narcissa turned away, and Lily's kiss landed awkwardly on her cheek.

"I mean it this time. I really do."

Lily leaned back, narrowing her eyebrows. "I don't understand, Cissy. You've been engaged to Lucius ages. It's never bothered you before." Their secret relationship had been going on since Narcissa's seventh year at Hogwarts. Lily had already been entertaining a relationship with James Potter, but her heart wasn't truly in it—not like it was with Narcissa.

Lily _adored_ Narcissa. She brought an excitement into her life that she'd never experienced before, and she knew that Narcissa could show her a lot more. She just had to be brave, and let her family know what path her life was going to take.

But deep down, Lily knew that Narcissa would never tell them. Her older sister, Andromeda, had already abandoned the family's unspoken rules, and she had been scorched off the family tree for it. Narcissa wasn't as strong, wasn't as brave.

"This was always going to happen, Lily," she whispered, looking up at Lily with her sparkling, tear-welled blue eyes. Lily dropped her gaze to the floor, balling her hands into fists. "You don't know what it's like," Narcissa went on. "Having this big secret that could come out at any moment...it's horrible."

Lily kept her eyes on the floor. She didn't want to look at Narcissa - if she did, she knew she would burst into tears. "Well...can't we remain friends?" she murmured, trying to keep the desperate edge out of her voice.

Narcissa sighed. "I'd love to, Lily...but that's still just as dangerous. If my father knew I was having any kind of relationship with a Mudb—a _Muggleborn_ , we'd both be in a lot of trouble."

"So what?" Lily continued, still not looking up. "What happens now?"

"We just...we just don't see each other anymore. You just pretend I don't exist."

Lily threw back her head, finally unable to bear it. Her green eyes glittered angrily, and Narcissa winced. "What is wrong with you? Do you think you can just slip out of the world with nothing happening because of it? Do you think anyone can do that? I love you, Narcissa!" she cried, the tears finally springing into her eyes. Narcissa threw herself forward, wrapping her arms around Lily.

"I know," she whispered, rubbing her fingers in a circular motion on the back of Lily's neck. "I'm sorry, Lily. I love you too...but I have to do this. We have to move on."

Lily buried her face in Narcissa's pale hair, inhaling her scent; she always smelled of old parchment and lavenders. "How do you ever get over someone?" she murmured, feeling her throat thickening. "How do you move on?"

"You just...do," Narcissa replied, sounding unconvinced. "You just keep going, day by day, until one day it just doesn't hurt anymore."

"You've broken my heart, Narcissa."

Narcissa sighed. "My heart is broken too."


	15. Biology

**Written For:**

\- Day 15 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Crush

\- February Event: Teamwork Exercise: (plot/action) Receiving a card/gift from a Secret Admirer, (object) Card/Love Letter

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Pairings: Narcissa/Regulus

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Poems Porn: "I wonder how biology can explain the physical pain you feel in our chest when all you want to do is be with someone."

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Frat Pack: "Are you crying?" / "Am I crying? I'm not crying! You are."

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Alliterating Phrases: 'Down in the Dumps'

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Adjectives: Defensive, Interesting, Sharp

 **Pairings/Characters:** Narcissa/Lucius, Regulus, Sirius

 **Word Count:** 640

* * *

 **Biology**

 _No one lives forever, but that's no reason to give up. Don't you wanna fall in love?_

Regulus clutched the card to his chest as he wandered through the hallways of Grimmauld Place. He had a sealed envelope in his pocket, containing a Valentines card for his crush—hopefully, the person who had sent him his own card.

As he stood outside Narcissa's bedroom, he took another peek at the curly script in his card. _'To Regulus. Happy Valentines Day! Love from your secret admirer.'_ He blushed, trying to imagine Narcissa sitting over her desk and writing out the card to him the night before, and sliding it under his door. For a moment, Regulus considered sliding the card he'd written to Narcissa under her door, but he took a deep breath. He had to be a man about this.

Clearing his throat, he knocked on the door briefly and then entered.

What he saw before him came as a shock. Narcissa was sprawled out on her bed, straddling a platinum-haired bloke who Regulus recognised as Lucius Malfoy. She was wearing nothing but her skimpy blue underwear, and was leaning over Lucius, sticking out her rear provocatively.

They both snapped their heads to face Regulus, and Narcissa slipped down from atop Lucius and wrapped herself in the sheets. Once she had composed herself, she glared at her cousin. "What the hell are you doing, just walking in here!?"

"I...I was..." Regulus could feel his face glowing. He held out the sealed card, stammering. "I was...just giving you a...a card...and I wanted...wanted to say..."

"Spit it out," Lucius probed.

"...Thanks for the card," mumbled Regulus, dropping the card for Narcissa to the floor. There was a brief silence, which was broken by Narcissa's sudden, haughty laugh.

"I didn't send you a card."

Unable to look Narcissa in the eye, Regulus spun on his heel and rushed out of the bedroom, hurling down the stairs and into the dining room. He could hear Narcissa and Lucius laughing upstairs, and he closed the heavy oak door behind him, rubbing his eyes fiercely.

When he had cleared the tears from his vision, he spotted his older brother sitting at the table, with a textbook open in front of him. He was staring up at Regulus, an eyebrow raised.

"Are you crying?"

Regulus glared at Sirius. "Am I crying? I'm not crying! _You_ are," he snapped, and Sirius rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to the textbook. Regulus sat opposite him quietly, and took a glance at Sirius's book, noticing that none of the pictures were moving. It was a Muggle book.

"What's got you down in the dumps?" Sirius questioned, turning the page.

Regulus shrugged. "It doesn't matter."

"You gave Narcissa a card, didn't you?"

"Only because she gave me a card!" snapped Regulus defensively. Sirius met Regulus's gaze again.

"You idiot. Narcissa didn't give you that card."

"Well, who did?"

"Didn't you notice that it was in your trunk _before_ you even came home from Hogwarts? My guess is that it's someone in your dorm," Sirius paused, lowering his voice. "My money is on Barty."

Regulus opened his mouth to retort, but found that no words could be found. He sat back in his chair, suddenly feeling like quite an idiot. "What are you reading?" he asked, changing the subject.

"A Muggle textbook," Sirius replied. "Lily Evans gave it to me—but don't tell Mum. It's called 'Biology', something that the Muggles learn in their school. It's mainly about the human body. Quite interesting, actually."

Regulus sighed. "I wonder how much biology can explain the physical pain you feel in our chest when all you want to do is be with someone."

"Pass me the sick bucket," muttered Sirius, closing the textbook sharply and throwing it at his brother.


	16. She's The Man

**Written For:**

\- Day 16 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Genius

\- February Event: Teamwork Exercise: (title) She's The Man, (object) Ribbon

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Charmed: (Scenario) Forbidden love, (Object) Charm Bracelet, (Word) Snake, (Word) Spider, (Action) Tearing a page out of a book, . (Action) Writing in a diary

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Secret Diary of a Call Girl: (word) Moonlight, (dialogue) "I didn't think there was much point wearing knickers."

 **Pairings/Characters:** Cassiopeia/OC (Felinda Longbottom, c. 1915)

 **Word Count:** 1,016

* * *

 **She's The Man  
** _I got so scared, I thought no one could save me, you came along, scooped me up like a baby._

 _Dear Diary,_

 _I've not spoken to Felinda for at least a week. It hurts, but I know it's for the best. Father would lose his mind if he learnt about our private relationship. I can't risk my future within the House of Black for a girl._

Cassiopeia leaned away from her diary, studying the words she had just written. As she did so, her sister Dorea mumbled in her sleep from the bed a few yards away from the desk, and she sighed. It was a ridiculous idea to try writing down one's private thoughts when one shared a bedroom with one's sister.

With a sigh, she tore out the page from her diary and scrunched it into a ball, before aiming it over at her own bed and throwing it. It skidded along the floorboards and vanished under the bed.

Cassiopeia looked out of the window, staring out into the street, which was illuminated by moonlight. Even though it was dark, she saw a couple over by the nearby park holding hands as they walked, and this only sent another flurry of pain to her heart. Why couldn't she be like that? Why couldn't she hold hands and show her fondness in public to the girl she loved?

It didn't take a genius to work it out. The problem was that Cassiopeia loved a _girl_. It didn't matter that Felinda was a Longbottom, and therefore a woman from strong, Pureblood lineage. What mattered was that Felinda was female, and it would break her mother's heart if she found out that Cassiopeia was homosexual.

It wasn't that Cassiopeia hadn't tried forcing herself to be attracted to men; she had. She had allowed her sister-in-law to set up courtship with her brother; Victor Crabbe. Victor was a tall, heavyset man, much like his sister Irma, and many women found him immensely attractive. But despite how politely Victor scouted her about London Town, Cassiopeia couldn't make herself fabricate an affection for him.

She didn't want someone with muscles and broad shoulders; or clipped hair and the scratch of stubble against her fingertips. Cassiopeia wanted to hold a person with soft curves, feel the fleshiness of warm hips and breasts under her hands, run her fingers through tresses of long, silky hair, and kiss the supple lips of a woman.

A twinge of arousal pulsated through her as she thought of _Felinda's_ long, chestnut coloured hair, and the way her wide hips swayed as she walked. The sound of something tapping against her window broke her daydream, and she quickly looked up, staring out onto the street. Her heart skipped a beat.

Felinda Longbottom was standing beneath the window, wearing a wide, lopsided grin. She was wearing a dark, long-sleeved dress, and had her hair fastened up on top of her head, but loose, curly tendrils escaped and hung around her ears. Cassiopeia quietly pushed open the window and looked down at her lover.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered into the dark, peering over her shoulder to glance at her sister. Luckily, Dorea was sound asleep.

"Don't worry—I borrowed my brother's invisibility cloak!" Felinda hissed back. She held up a folded cloak that had been slung over her arm, and shook it out, before wrapping it around her shoulders. It _was_ an invisibility cloak—albeit, a cloak with a fading invisibility charm cast upon it. Cassiopeia could still see dark patches against the street, where Felinda's dress was visible through more patchy areas of the cloak. But it was good enough. Cassiopeia nodded, and backed into her bedroom, moving away from the desk.

She waited patiently as Felinda quietly climbed up the vines on the brick of the house, and then slipped inside the bedroom, clambering first onto the desk where Cassiopeia had been writing, and then hopping down onto the floor. She reached over, still with her invisibility cloak on, and shut the window.

Quietly, Cassiopeia kicked off her house slippers and climbed into bed, and Felinda jumped in too, taking the side that was nearest the wall. The girls pulled the covers over their heads, and then Cassiopeia squirmed underneath the invisibility cloak too. It was hot, and it would soon become difficult to breathe, but Cassiopeia felt the most comfortable she had in a while.

"I wanted to bring you your present," whispered Felinda excitedly, and Cassiopeia raised her eyebrows into the darkness. "For Valentine's Day?"

"Oh, yeah..." she cursed herself for forgetting stupid holidays like this, but Felinda didn't seem perturbed by her forgetfulness. She quietly murmured a spell, and Felinda's wand tip glowed, illuminating their little bedsheet den with a soft, yellow glow. Cassiopeia's eyes landed on a small, neatly wrapped package, fastened with a bright pink ribbon. Felinda handed it to Cassiopeia, and she unwrapped it carefully, allowing a small chain to fall into her hand.

It was a delicate silver bracelet, with several empty links around it. A few links already had charms on them—Cassiopeia examined a tiny, curled up snake with minuscule emeralds for eyes, and a black widow spider, with a ruby for the mark on it's back. "It's beautiful," she whispered, feeling tears welling up in her eyes.

Felinda took the charm bracelet and fastened it carefully to Cassiopeia's wrist. "There's more space for other charms. We can get more for it as our life goes on."

Even though Cassiopeia's rational brain told her that she needed to stop this relationship before things got too far, she felt too much in love with Felinda at that moment in time. Without even responding, she thrust her head forward and kissed her, hard.

When they finally broke away for breath, Felinda was flushing. "So, what are we going to do now?" asked Cassiopeia, running her finger along the underside of Felinda's neck.

Felinda grinned, and took Cassiopeia's hand, pushing it down her chest and past her hips. "Well, I didn't think there was much point wearing knickers."


	17. Beauty and the Beast

**Written For:**

\- Hillstar for reaching a milestone in a HPFC Challenge

\- Day 17 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Craving

\- February Event: Teamwork Exercise: (lyric) "I'll drown my beliefs to have your babies." - Radiohead, (title) Beauty and the Beast

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Pairings: Remus/Narcissa

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Secret Diary: (plot/action) Being kissed unexpectedly, mid-sentence, (plot/action) Trying to move comfortably in a particularly tight dress, (dialogue) "I couldn't bear it if my parents found out."

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Poems Porn: "I feel like a part of my soul has loved you since the beginning of everything. Maybe we're from the same star."

\- Word Prompt Express: Dress

 **Pairings/Characters:** Remus/Narcissa

 **Word Count:** 669

* * *

 **Beauty and the Beast**

 _Between two lungs it was released, the breath that passed from you to me._

Remus watched, slightly bemused, as his girlfriend crouched in the lower half of the refrigerator and actively searched through the cooling box. He could tell that she was struggling to breathe properly in the ridiculously tight blue dress that she was wearing, but he knew without asking that she wouldn't even consider taking it off to wear something more comfortable. When she stood up, clutching a tub of vanilla ice cream, she walked awkwardly over to the kitchen table, and Remus observed the way that the blue material was stretched to it's limit over her hips.

"Are you okay, Cissy?" he asked as she sat down, raising his eyebrow as she dug her spoon viciously into the ice cream and began devouring it. "You're eating ice cream? You _hate_ ice cream." He had the tub of ice cream in the freezer for when he was out of chocolate, and needed a pick-me-up after the events of each full moon.

Narcissa shrugged. "I don't know, Remus. I just had a craving for it, okay?" she shot him a snippy look, and Remus sat back in his chair. He knew better than to argue with Narcissa, but something she said lingered in his mind. _A craving._

The same thought seemed to pass through Narcissa's mind, as she froze, with the spoon midway towards her mouth. She replaced it in the tub slowly, and her pale blue eyes met with Remus's. "Narcissa," he spoke slowly, drawing out her name with deliberate care. "Are you...?"

Narcissa pushed away the tub of ice cream hurriedly and stood up from the table, rushing away suddenly. The seams of the dress split as she moved so quickly, and moments later Remus heard her vomiting into the toilet. He stood up and followed her, finding her crouched over the toilet, clutching the seat with a white-knuckle grip. He leaned over and combed her hair back with his fingers, holding it away from her face.

"Get it out, Cissy," he soothed, rubbing her back with his free hand. She wretched a few more times, and then sat back against the wall. Remus reached for a cup on the side of the sink and filled it with tap water, handing it to her. She took a long, grateful drink.

"What have we done?" she whispered in a dry voice once she had drained the cup. "Oh, Merlin."

"Narcissa, you need to know," Remus started, soothingly brushing back her hair with his fingers. "I'll support you, whatever decision you make."

"I'm not getting rid of it!" she snapped, shooting Remus a glare. "How can you even _suggest_..." her voice tailed off, and her eyes filled with tears. "Remus, I couldn't bear it if my parents found out...we can't tell anyone."

"I know," Remus replied quietly. "I know." He took a long pause, his lip shuddering. "Cissy...what if...what if the baby is like me? What if your parents _do_ find out? It's bad enough that I'm already not a desirable suitor for you, but to consider the thought of having a baby with a werewolf...they will abjure you from the family for—" he was cut off as Narcissa leaned forwards and pressed her lips against his suddenly, preventing him from continuing. Her tears spilled from her eyes and mingled with his; tears he hadn't realised he'd been crying.

"Shh, baby," she said softly, taking his hands within hers. "I'll drown my beliefs to have your babies. They don't have to find out. _No_ one has to find out. We'll run away. We'll start a new life, somewhere else."

"Oh, Narcissa," Remus replied, pulling her into his chest. "I love you. I feel like a part of my soul has loved you since the beginning of everything."

Narcissa wound her arms around his torso, nestling her face into the crook of his neck. "I love you too. Maybe we're made from the same star."


	18. Words of Wisdom

**Written For:**

\- Day 18 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Tall

\- February Event: Teamwork Exercise: (colour) Baby Pink, (dialogue) "I think anybody who falls in love is a freak. It's a crazy thing to do. It's kind of like a form of socially acceptable insanity."

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Secret Diary of a Call Girl: (location) A party, (object) Bow Tie

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/All Colours: Baby Pink, Beige, Dark Brown

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Said Synonyms: Concluded, Declared

\- Word Prompt Express:

 **Pairings/Characters:** Andromeda, Sirius

 **Word Count:** 487

* * *

 **Words of Wisdom  
** _We all want something to hold in the night, we don't care if it hurts or we're holding too tight._

Andromeda _hated_ the insufferable parties that her mother and Aunt Walburga held almost weekly at Grimmauld Place. They were perfect for the two elder women, who were desperate to get their children all married off (or at least engaged), but Andromeda and her siblings _detested_ them. Well—she and Sirius detested them. Bellatrix hadn't been to any of the parties since her engagement to Rodolphus Lestrange; Narcissa had always particularly enjoyed dressing up and socialising; and Regulus just did whatever his mother asked him to—which included wearing stiff-necked dress robes and standing uncomfortably in the corner, speaking whence spoken to.

Eighteen year old Andromeda fidgeted awkwardly with the cuffs of her tight, waist-hugging dress, searching the crowd of guests for her cousin Sirius. As if by answer, he appeared behind her suddenly, jabbing her lightly in the ribs to make her jump. "Sirius," Andromeda sighed in relief. "Am I glad to see you here."

Sirius, who was a few years younger than her, had the neck of his dress robes open, and wasn't wearing a bow tie like his brother. Despite being younger, he had grown a few inches since the last time Andromeda saw him, and his tall frame was now close to towering above hers. He grinned mischievously, thrusting his hands into the pockets of his robes. "Nice to see you too, Andy."

The two chatted animatedly for a while, discussing Sirius's schooling mostly. Andromeda was always interested to hear about his antics at Hogwarts, especially as he had broken the Black tradition of being sorted into Slytherin. Eventually, Andromeda's eyes settled on her younger sister, and their conversation tailed off.

Narcissa was wearing her white-blonde hair sleek and straight down her back, and she was dressed in girlish, baby pink robes, which contrasted starkly with the rest of the guests, who were attired mainly in shades of beige or dark brown. She was talking to Lucius Malfoy, and she was simpering as she spoke. Andromeda resisted the urge to roll her eyes—Narcissa had always been a hopeless romantic.

"You know our parents only host these parties to get us to fall in love, don't you?" Andromeda concluded, and Sirius shrugged.

"It's a stupid idea. I doubt I'll ever fall in love." Sirius declared. Andromeda furrowed her brow and glanced at him.

"What are you talking about? Of course you will."

"No, not me. I think anyone who falls in love is a freak. It's a crazy thing to do. It's kind of like a form of socially acceptable insanity."

Andromeda opened her mouth to respond, but found that no words came to the surface. In a way, what Sirius had said made sense—but she couldn't believe that her daft, somewhat moronic younger cousin had come out with such a spiel of wisdom.


	19. My Fair Lady

**Written For:**

\- Day 19 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Dare

\- February Event: Teamwork Exercise: (plot/action) Meeting a spouse/loved one for the first time, (title) My Fair Lady

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Sex and the City: (first line) Once upon a time..., (word) Luminous, (object) Sleeping mask

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/All Colours: Denim Blue, Powder Blue, Grey, Blue-Green, Cerulean, Ultramarine

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Feelings & Emotions: Resentful, Suspicious

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/A-Z of AUs: Mermaid/Merman!AU

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Said Synonyms: quipped, huffed, cackled, exclaimed, called, stammered

\- Word Prompt Express: Dare

 **Pairings/Characters:** Bellatrix, Lucius/Narcissa

 **Word Count:** 1,602

* * *

 **My Fair Lady**

 _I brace myself, 'cause I know it's going to hurt, but I like to think at least things can't get any worse._

Once upon a time, a young lady named Narcissa awoke to the sun streaming brightly through her eyelids. When they fluttered open, her sister's face was looming in front of hers, a sleeping mask still propped up on her forehead. "Wake up, Cissy. We're playing dares." As Narcissa's eyes adjusted to the daylight, she noticed the mischievous look in her older sister's eyes.

"Aren't you a little old for games, Bella?" Narcissa quipped, sitting up in bed. Bellatrix was seventeen and this was her first summer that she wasn't spending at home from Hogwarts. She had joined Narcissa, Andromeda and the family in Devon at their holiday home, confessing that she had a love for the scenery.

"This is a good one."

"Can I at least have breakfast first?"

"No. Get dressed and meet me by the lake." At this moment, Narcissa noticed that Bellatrix was already dressed, her unruly black hair tied back in a messy bun. She pinged the sleeping mask in Narcissa's direction, and then left the bedroom.

Narcissa resisted the age to groan as she dressed in denim blue shorts and a long sleeved, powder blue shirt. As soon as she had thrown her hair back into a ponytail, she headed outside, hurrying through the gardens, down the grassy banking, and met with Bellatrix, who was standing by the lake.

"Okay, lets get this over and done with," Narcissa grumbled, wrapping her arms around herself. It was sunny, but the early morning air had a sharpness to it that made Narcissa break out in goosebumps. However, she knew better than to challenge Bellatrix's outrageous ideas, especially when she seemed so set on them. "Can I give you a dare first?"

"No," Bellatrix snapped. "I'm first. I dare you to swim out into the lake," she grinned wickedly.

Bellatrix spoke so fast that Narcissa had the slight impression that she had already been thinking of this dare, but she couldn't even begin to imagine why. Bellatrix _knew_ that Narcissa wasn't the greatest of swimmers, and large bodies of water had always scared her a little. However, she wasn't about to turn down a challenge from Bellatrix—her older sister would tell everyone and everyone that she was a chicken for the rest of her life.

"Fine," Narcissa huffed, pursing her lips. Bellatrix raised an eyebrow, and her smile faltered. Clearly, she hadn't been expecting Narcissa to accept the dare.

The younger girl kicked off her shoes and pulled down her shorts, throwing them at Bellatrix, and then headed into the water, clad only in her underwear and shirt. As soon as her feet sunk into the mossy, sludgy ground beneath the lake she cringed, hating the sensation of the mud between her toes, but she soldiered on. Before long, she was waist deep in the water. She turned around to glare at Bellatrix. "I'm going to get you back for this," she exclaimed resentfully. The cogs were already whirring in her brain, trying to think of an adequate dare she could challenge Bellatrix with.

"You'll have to finish your dare first," Bellatrix cackled. "Swim all the way across to the other side of the lake and back."

Narcissa rolled her eyes and looked over to the other side. It wasn't too far. So long as she didn't think of how deep the lake became in the centre of the lake, she would be fine. With a deep breath, she plunged herself forwards into the water, starting a smooth, steady breaststroke.

It had been a while since she had been swimming, and as she gracefully moved through the water, she realised how refreshing and soothing it was. The water lapped coolly against her limbs, and the sun shone warmly on her back. Now that she had become used to the cold harshness of the lake, she was beginning to enjoy her swim.

She was about halfway across the lake when she became distracted by Bellatrix's voice. She stopped swimming abruptly and turned around, treading water to keep her head above the surface. She could see Bellatrix stood at the edge of the lake, waving her arms wildly.

"What?" Narcissa called, spluttering as lake water seeped into her mouth. "I can't hear you!"

"There's something in the water!"

Before Narcissa could reply, something grabbed her by the ankles, and she was yanked under the glassy surface of the water ruthlessly.

oOo

When she finally came back into conciousness, Narcissa realised immediately that she was no longer in the summery air of her holiday home back garden. She could tell by the way that her breathing echoed around her, as though she was in some kind of narrow, low-ceilinged room.

She took in her surroundings once her eyes were open, noticing stony grey walls, lined with moss and seaweed. She was laid upon a slightly elevated rock in the cave, and there was a small stretch of water below her, of which light was streaming through. In her mind, she put two and two together—she must have travelled to this cave through her lake. There must have been an opening under the water.

Peering into the water, she tried to work out how far underwater she would have to swim, should she try and make her way out. Being in the water was one thing, but swimming under water—the idea made Narcissa shiver.

Plus, there was the added addition of whatever it was that had dragged her under the water. She reared away from the edge of the water as she remembered the sensation of slimy, strong hands around her ankles, and how they had pulled her so swiftly below breathing point. Shivering, Narcissa pulled her legs to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, wondering if Bellatrix was going to have gone for help.

It didn't seem likely. Bellatrix was more likely to have run away from the scene of the crime immediately. If and when the inevitable questions arose from their parents later on in the day, Bellatrix would deny having anything to do with Narcissa for the entire day.

A splash in the water broke Narcissa's train of thought, and she became mildly aware that she was no longer alone in the cave. The glassy surface of the water was rippling, and a pale, luminous shape was glowing beneath it. A wave of suspicion spread through her, and Narcissa tried to back up further onto the rock. "Sh-show yourself!" she stammered, trying to keep her voice clear and threatening.

She watched carefully as the surface of the water broke, and the creature emerged, and her suspicion morphed into utter, undiluted shock.

The body of a man rose from the water first; a long, slender body, sickly pale yet tinged with an eerie blue-green glow. It was a male body, slim yet well defined, though he had long, silvery blonde hair that hung down his back, slick with water. He had a sharp jawline and narrow, cerulean eyes.

But most shocking of all wasn't his upper half, but what followed after him. Instead of a pair of legs, a long, scaly fishtail flicked in the water behind him. The scales blended from the skin around his pelvis, starting with a pale, blue-green shade, and slowly melting into a more pigmented, ultramarine colour.

He was the most beautiful thing that Narcissa had ever laid eyes on.

Momentarily stunned by his beauty, she couldn't quite find the words to say to him - in fact, she didn't really know _what_ to say. Luckily, however, the merman was much more forward. "My fair lady," he greeted, in an oddly perfect, clear English accent. "I apologise for how rudely I snatched you out of the water."

Narcissa opened and closed her mouth a few times, feeling like a goldfish. "W-well you should be!" she finally snapped, straightening her back so she could feel a little taller, though it was completely pointless. There was no way her petite frame would match up to the long, at least seven-foot physique of the merman. "What did you think you were doing, dragging me underneath like that? I could've drowned."

"Oh, there's no way that could have happened," the merman replied with a haughty laugh. He spread out the long fingers on each of his hands, showing her the thin webs between his fingers. "While ever I was touching you, you were safe to breathe under the water. That's one of the many talents of the merfolk."

Narcissa felt her cheeks growing hot as she imagined those strange, webbed hands touching her. "That's besides the point," she retorted. "It was quite a rude thing to do."

"I reinforce my apologies," continued the merman, bending in a slight bow. Narcissa felt a little confused—she had never met a merperson before, but she had always been taught to believe that they were very proud creatures. She never imagined that one would be so polite to her, a _human._ "You shouldn't have been swimming in the lake, however. Didn't you know about the nest of Grindylows? I saw them heading towards you, so I pulled you to safety."

Narcissa was slightly stunned. The merman hadn't kidnapped her, he was merely trying to rescue her from a watery fate with the Grindylows.

"Well, I suppose I should thank you," she told him quietly, feeling quite embarrassed. "May I ask your name?"

The merman smiled, and stuck out his hand, which Narcissa gently shook. "Lucius, fair one. Lucius."


	20. Kiss or Kill

**Written For:**

\- Day 20 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Buzz

\- February Event: Teamwork Exercise: (word) Devoted/Devotion, (dialogue) "No matter what has happened. No matter what you've done. No matter what you will do. I will always love you. I swear it." (C.J. Redwine)

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Secret Diary of a Call Girl: (word) Possessive, (object) Bright red underwear, (plot/action) Having sex against a window, (word) Intimacy

\- Word Prompt Express: Inside

 **Pairings/Characters:** Cedrella/Septimus Weasley

 **Word Count:** 468

* * *

 **Kiss or Kill**

 _And these thoughts of endless nights; bring us back into the light; kill this venom from my heart._

Marrying a blood traitor hadn't been the only thing that Cedrella Black had managed to get herself abjured from the House of Black for. The real reason was much darker, much more private, and much more embarrassing for her parents and siblings.

But Cedrella no longer cared. She used to care, back when the blood and the lust hadn't ruled her life. As she'd grown older, things had changed. She barely thought of her sisters or her parents anymore. She didn't need them to love her—she had Septimus; and Septimus was _devoted_ to her.

Cedrella could see the devotion in his honey brown eyes, as he held her nearly naked form against the window of the hotel they were spending the night, gripping her buttocks possessively as he made love to her. He didn't care that her bare backside was pressed against the window for all to see; he just wanted the intimacy with her. Sometimes Cedrella didn't know if he was so infatuated with her because of who she was, or because of what she had become, and her new, magnetising talents that had come with it.

Gripping her legs around Septimus's waist to keep him in position, and threw back her head, opening her mouth as wide as she could. Her fingers were skating over his neck. She could hear the thrum of his heartbeat; feel the veins pulsing under her fingers. This was what gave her the buzz she so desperately needed—not the sex, not the way Septimus held her—the blood.

He craned his head to the side to give her better access, and she threw her head into the hollow of his neck, sinking her teeth into his skin. She felt him wince at first, but he moaned quietly as she started to drink. This was just more of the intimacy that Septimus desired from her.

His body bucked against hers; he wasn't about to stop having sex with her just because she was drinking. Cedrella pulled away from his neck and rolled her head back against the window, allowing the blood to trickle down into the cup of her bright red bra. Septimus groaned erotically at the sight of her, and poured himself inside her.

They shivered together for a moment, and then Septimus laid her down gently on the bed, where she looked up at his naked form, smiling.

"Do you really love me, Septimus?"

"No matter what has happened. No matter what you've done. No matter what you will do. I will always love you. I swear it." He pressed a kiss to her lips, not caring about tasting his own blood in her mouth. They would be together, forever.


	21. Saint Jessamine

**Written For:**

\- Day 21 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Patronus Charm

\- February Event: Teamwork Exercise: (word) Affection/Affectionate, (emotion/feeling) Challenged

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Secret Diary: (word) Angel, (word) Breakfast, (plot/action) Rearranging the living room furniture, (word) Professor, (word) Beginner, (animal) Horse

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Said Synonyms: announced, mused, countered, started, scoffed

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/OC Names: Jessamine

\- Word Prompt Express: Complicated

 **Pairings/Characters:** Marius/OC (OC: Jessamine Crickerly)

 **Word Count:** 1,395

* * *

 **Saint Jessamine**

 _And I told you to be patient, and I told you to be fine, and I told you to be balanced, and I told you to be kind._

Marius yawned as he wandered into the kitchen of the home he shared with his fiancée, Jessamine Crickerly. She was using her wand to monitor a pot full of eggs that were scrambling, whilst two plates soared out of the cupboard and landed neatly on either side of the table.

"I could've laid the table, love," Marius announced as he entered the kitchen, watching as the pan that Jessamine was using jumped up from it's place on the hot stove and flew to hover above each plate, depositing a generous pile of eggs on each plate.

"Oh, no need," Jessamine replied breezily, signalling for the pot to return to it's position on the stove, before sitting down at her place at the table. Marius sat opposite her, and began eating.

It was no secret that Marius couldn't help but feel sad whenever he saw Jessamine using her magic. All it did was remind him that he was a failure—his parents had disowned him when it became apparent that he was showing no signs of magic, dismissing him as a squib. He'd never been able to go to Hogwarts like all of his siblings had. Instead, he'd been sent to an orphanage, and would've had to attend a Muggle workhouse, but he'd been adopted just in time.

It was the Crickerly family who took him in. The Minister for Magic, Venusia Crickerly, had died shortly before Marius was born, but her son was just as friendly and kind as his mother. He and his wife, who preferred to be called Mr and Mrs Crickerly, adopted Marius as their own, and taught him from home whilst Jessamine went to Hogwarts.

Jessamine seemed to notice the dismay on Marius's face as they ate, and she reached over and placed a hand upon his. "Tell me what you're thinking, my dear."

Marius threw his fork down, unable to eat a bite. "I don't know, Jessa. Sometimes, I just feel so full of magic...and it hurts me so much that I'm incapable of being like you; like Mother and Father; like...like my biological parents.

Jessamine nodded sympathetically. "I know it's hard for you, Marius. But we still have a good life. And who knows—maybe you're not really a Squib."

Marius couldn't help it; he shot her a dirty look, one that his real mother and father would probably be proud of. "Why would you say such a thing, Jessamine? Why would you try to fill me with such false hope?"

Jessamine shrugged. "You're only nineteen years old. I've heard cases of wizards and witches not discovering their magical talent until, ooh...I think the latest case was twenty-three. It's a very rare circumstance, of course, but it happened."

A flicker of hope passed through Marius's chest, but it dissolved almost immediately. Everyone else in the Black family was known for showing their magical talent _very_ early. They were of the purest of pure wizarding blood. Strange, rare circumstances of late magic just wouldn't occur.

"Even if that was the case," Marius mused, pushing his food around his plate idly. "It's far too late for me to go to Hogwarts, of course. There's no way I would be able to learn all the skills to be a wizard."

"Of course you would," countered Jessamine good-naturedly. "I can be your professor." She was grinning, but Marius could see the genuine care in her eyes, and he smiled at her affectionately.

"You're an angel, Jessamine."

Jessamine only shook her head, laughing. "How about after breakfast, we move some things around in the living room and practice?"

oOo

Marius had thought that Jessamine was only joking about practising magic, but as soon as she had cleared away their breakfast, she had jumped into action. As soon as he entered the living room, he watched, mesmerised, as the settee and coffee table swam around in mid-air, seeking a location in the far corners of the room.

Jessamine stood in the centre of the living room, holding her wand aloft like a conductor. When she was happy with the placement of all the furniture, she turned around and smiled brightly at Marius. "Are you ready?"

"Jessamine," he started hesitantly. "I thought...I thought you were just playing, back in the kitchen."

Jessamine narrowed her dark brow together, and crooked her finger. "Come in, stop being silly. We're just giving it a go, right?"

Marius folded his arms, exasperated. "Don't you see, Jess? If I had any real magic in me, I would've been sent a Hogwarts letter. Surely my father would've known about it."

Jessamine shook her head. "Not if it's always appeared that you're a Squib. Now come on; it's not going to hurt anyone."

"It will hurt my pride," scoffed Marius. Jessamine curled her arm around his, and looked up at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

"I'll always be proud of you, Marius. No matter _what_ you are." She backed away, and held out her wand. "Now, watch me. _Expecto Patronum!"_

He'd seen Jessamine perform the Patronus Charm before, but it still mystified him. A stream of white, pale smoke erupted from the tip of her wand, and formed into the shape of an animal slowly. Hooves appeared, then lean, strong legs, a thick body, and a long flank. It was a pure white horse, and it stalked around Jessamine slowly. As it scuffed it's hooves along the floor, small clouds of smoke puffed around it like dust.

"Even if I _could_ do magic, I could never do such a complicated spell straight away," Marius snapped. "But your Patronus is beautiful, as always."

"Marius, you're an adult. You've been exposed to magic your entire life, even if you've never actually used it. If you really feel as full of magic as you say you do—who knows how strong you could be?"

Strangely, Jessamine's words sparked a new feeling inside Marius - it wasn't despair or dismay; he felt challenged. _Fine._ He'd try Jessamine's stupid Patronus Charm—and when it proved that he wasn't magical, then hopefully she'd leave the matter alone.

Jessamine held out her wand, and Marius snatched it from her palm. He stepped into the centre of the room, sidestepping the ghostly horse, which lingered beside Jessamine, and held the wand aloft. "Think of the happiest memory you've ever had," Jessamine ordered. Marius screwed his eyes shut, and let his mind flicker through various memories of his past; scanning through them like a moving picture.

 _The day Mr and Mrs Crickerly took him home from the Orphanage. The first day he met Jessamine._ No, they weren't strong enough. _When he knelt down on one knee on Brighton Pier during their holiday and proposed to Jessamine with her grandmother's black diamond ring_ — _and she said yes._ Warmth spread through Marius at the thought of the memory, and he felt his heart fluttering. That was the one.

" _Expecto Patronum!"_ he yelled, flourishing the wand like he'd seen Jessamine do a thousand times. He kept his eyes closed.

Nothing happened, of course. The memory remained strong in Marius's mind, but he felt no connection to the wand; no otherworldly sensation of using magic. "I told you, Jessa," he sighed. "It was a waste of—"

"Marius," she whispered. "Open your eyes."

Marius had hardly realised his eyes were still closed. He opened them quickly, and they landed immediately on the solid white horse, still kicking up clouds and butting the ground with it's flank. "It's just your Patronus."

"Marius!" snapped Jessamine. Marius turned to stare at her, and saw that her Patronus was stood beside her. The horse in front of him wasn't Jessamine's. It was his. They had the same Patronus. "You did it," Jessamine continued in a whisper. "You made a corporeal Patronus—on your first go! You're supposed to be a beginner!"

"I..." Marius walked around the horse, observing it. It was really there. He'd performed magic. He turned back to Jessamine and ran towards her, pulling her into an embrace that swept her off her feet. "I didn't do it. _You_ did it. You gave me the motivation to try," he planted a large, wet kiss on the end of her nose. "I love you, Saint Jessamine."


	22. Snowflakes

**Written For:**

\- Day 22 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Cut

\- February Event: Teamwork Exercise: (emotion/feeling) Optimistic, (dialogue) "You're late." / "You're stunning." / "You're forgiven."

\- Word Prompt Express: cut

 **Warnings:** Drug Use

 **Pairings/Characters:** Walburga/Orion

 **Word Count:** 367

* * *

 **Snowflakes**

 _You snort it like a champ, like the winter we're not in._

Walburga sat in front of her dressing table, staring at her wrinkled reflection. The last seventeen years, as well as the stresses of her eldest son, had aged her beyond her years. She was only in her mid-thirties (or so she had been telling everyone for the last seven years), but she felt as though she was nigh on sixty.

Tonight was the first date night that she and Orion had been on since before Regulus was born, and she wasn't feeling very optimistic that he night would go well. Frankly, she couldn't be bothered—she normally spent her evenings in the drawing room, getting through a large bottle of red wine until she fell asleep on the couch. She would always wake up in her own bed, however. Orion would never let her spend the whole night on the sofa.

She just needed a little buzz to get through the night. Something to make her feel young again, and remind Orion of the wonderful wife she could be. With bated breath, she reached into the back of the dressing table drawer and grabbed a small, plastic bag that was filled with white powder. Her lips pressed together at the sight of it, and she dropped it in front of her on the table.

Orion's razor blades were kept in the drawer too, and she snatched one up and used it to slice open the tiny bag and shake a small measurement out onto the table. She then used the razor to cut up the cocaine into a line, then threw it into the bin.

After bending over to inhale the line through her nostril, she stood up and brushed herself down, before rushing out of the bedroom.

Orion stood at the bottom of the stairwell, looking divine in his finest dress suit. "You're late," he observed, and Walburga beckoned her cheek towards him so that he could kiss it.

"Well, you're stunning," she murmured, eyeing him up and down. He smiled.

"You're forgiven," he replied, and used his thumb to wipe a fleck of white powder away from her upper lip. "Now lets go."


	23. Hush, Baby

**Written For:**

\- Day 23 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Hush

\- February Event: (quote) "There is never a time or place for true love. It happens accidentally, in a heartbeat, in a single flashing, throbbing moment." (Sarah Dessen), (colour) Lavender

\- Word Prompt Express: heart

 **Pairings/Characters:** Narcissa, Draco

 **Word Count:** 222

* * *

 **Hush, Baby**

 _I know it's mad, but if I go to hell, will you come with me or just leave?_

Narcissa thought that she had truly experienced love when she met Lucius Malfoy, but that wasn't the case. She adored Lucius of course, and admired the man he was. He was attractive and intelligent, and his family wealth kept her in luxury. Perhaps she loved him, but she was never _in_ love with him.

Her true love came when she gave birth to her son. She never expected it to hit her like it did, but it didn't matter. There was never a time or a place for true love. It happened accidentally, in a heartbeat, in a single flashing, throbbing moment. Suddenly she was holding her baby boy in her arms, and Narcissa had never felt love like it.

"Hush, baby," she murmured as he whimpered, before setting him back down in his cot.

She sat his nursery for days at a time, feeling comforted by the lavender and blue decoration of the room. Draco's little whimpers and sounds made Narcissa's heart flutter each time she heard him, and when she cradled him in her arms, she couldn't understand why her older sister never wanted to have children. Draco was like her own personal drug. She never wanted to leave him.


	24. Reality of Family

**Written For:**

\- Day 24 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Reality

\- Chocolate Frog Cards: Fairy (challenge): Write about someone who can be perceived as narcissistic and vain.

\- February Event: (object) Champagne, (dialogue) "What kind of hotel sells condoms?" / "My favourite kind of place."

\- Word Prompt Express: machine

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/True Blood: "You disgust me." / "Perhaps I'll grow on you." / "I'd prefer cancer."

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Secret Diary: (plot/action) Sitting in the bar of a hotel, (word) Spoiled, Technology, (location) Five star hotel

 **Pairings/Characters:** Sirius/Bellatrix (one-sided)

 **Word Count:** 682

* * *

 **Reality of Family**

 _And with the way you've been talking, every word gets you a step closer to hell._

Sirius wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole when he saw his cousin striding confidently towards him. He was sitting at the bar of the five star hotel that his parents were hosting a mixer party at. It was supposed to be a mixer of Pureblood families, so that they could attempt to get the current generation of Black sons and daughters promised off to their prospective others, but Sirius hadn't seen many other families present, other than his own and a selection of few others.

Bellatrix, who was older than him, didn't seem to mind the lack of diversity amongst the party. He had watched her dancing with both Lestrange brothers, then Regulus (who had hastily managed to escape to the bathroom, before vanishing for good). Sirius had no luck at trying to get out of the party—both of his parents were keeping an annoyingly close eye on him, especially since he had spent Christmas with the Potters.

He groaned inwardly as Bellatrix reached the bar. She snapped her fingers at the bartender, and he immediately served her up a tall glass of champagne. Sirius wanted to vomit at the way the barkeep eyed up his older cousin—the man, who had previously stood tall and elegant in his finery, was now simpering and slobbering over Bellatrix like a thirsty dog.

And he knew perfectly well that Bellatrix _loved_ the attention. In her short black dress, she was thrusting her ample bosom over the counter, her hooded eyes glimmering at him in a come-hither manner. "Pack it in," Sirius hissed to his cousin, whilst glaring at the barkeep. "It's not like he's going to give you your drink for free—everything is catered for."

Bellatrix shrugged, and tossed her curtain of thick hair over her shoulder. "I can't help it. Anyway, I'm not here for the staff," she waved her hand at the bartender condescendingly, and he seemed to wilt before slouching off to the other side of the bar "Your mother has insisted that I come up to your room with you," she smiled at him smugly, placing her hands on top of his. Sirius snatched them back, feeling anger welling in the pit of his stomach.

Of _course_ his deranged mother had suggested such a thing. It was the reality of this insane family. Not only would she know that Bellatrix would prevent Sirius from sneaking out of the hotel and making a run for it, but she would hope that something would happen between them. As Walburga Black had married her own cousin, she had no qualms about ensuring that her son married the purest of Purebloods, even if it meant tainting the family line with incest and genetic abnormalities.

As Bellatrix grew older, it was becoming more and more obvious that she was sharing Walburga's views. Her mother and Walburga spent many an evening discussing the filth that was anyone without pure, magical blood, and since turning seventeen, Bellatrix had been allowed to join in these visits.

"You disgust me," snapped Sirius. He drained the remainder of his drink.

"Maybe I'll grow on you," Bellatrix purred.

"I'd prefer cancer," he replied before jumping off the bar stool of which he was sitting. "I'm going to bed. By all means, come along, but you're sleeping on the couch."

"Hmm, in that case, I'll buy some condoms," Bellatrix replied merrily. Sirius was about to open his mouth to reject, but became automatically sidetracked.

"What kind of a hotel sells _condoms?"_

"My favourite kind of place," Bellatrix sniggered. "They have some kind of Muggle machine that dishes them out. They are obsessed with their technology," she said the word 'Muggle' like it was something much more disgusting, before heading over to the machine. "I'll meet you up there," she chided.

Sirius rolled his eyes. There was no way he would be hanging around while his creepy cousin advanced on him.

He would definitely have to make a run for it.


	25. Filthy Half Breed

**Written For:**

\- Day 25 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Wishing

\- February Event: (dialogue) "I love you, you belong to me." / "I don't belong to anybody. I'll never let anybody put me in a cage." / "I don't want to put you in a cage; I want to love you!", (word) Lovesick

\- Word Prompt Express: wish

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Sex & The City: (word) Obsessed, (word) Invisible, (word) Pity, (word) Perfect

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Secret Diary: (word) Dominant, (word) Slave

 **Pairings/Characters:** Bellatrix/Fenrir (one-sided)

 **Word Count:** 557

* * *

 **Filthy Half-Breed**

 _I'm delicious, you can't touch this, I'm that bitch that you can't fuck with._

Fenrir rolled onto his side, cracking his eyes open. The early morning sunlight was streaming through the boards on the windows of the shack that he chose to call his home, and the woman who had gone to bed with him was standing by the door, her back to him. She was expertly fastening up the back of her corset strings, tying them tightly.

Fenrir groaned inwardly and felt his nether regions stirring. Even post-sleep, all mussed up and a little untidy, Bellatrix Black was the most beautiful, perfect creature on the planet. "Come back to bed," he growled, and the tone of his voice made her turn. She threw a glance back at him, her lips curling into a sneer.

"No thank you," she purred. "I have to meet the Lestranges for breakfast."

"You always sneak out," Fenrir snapped. "Why can't you ever stay?"

Bellatrix rolled her eyes. "You know why. Anyway, I wouldn't want to be seen coming out of this—do you call this a _home?"_ she reached out and ran her fingertip along a dresser near her, brushing off the dusty residue. Her face was crumpled with disgust, but it didn't bother Fenrir.

He had been obsessed with her for a _long_ time. He wasn't ashamed to admit to her that she made him lovesick—the way she walked, talked and acted on a daily basis was enough to make him want to bow down his wolfish nature and pray at her altar. For a long time, Fenrir had been invisible to him. Out of nowhere, it was like his wishes had come true.

Bellatrix had a deep, personal need that needed to be fulfilled—and the man whom she was going to marry just couldn't fill those needs. She needed power, someone with a personality as big and dominant as hers - but someone who could be easily pushed down. Someone like Fenrir.

He didn't care if he had to be her slave. He'd spent years wishing for her to notice him, and when she finally did, he was determined to do everything he could to have her.

"You don't fool me, Bellatrix," he snapped, sitting up in bed. "Admit the way you feel; I know how I feel. I _love_ you. You belong to me."

Fenrir regretted the words as soon as they slipped out of his mouth. Bellatrix flared at him, her rage seeming to seep out of her pores. "I don't belong to anybody!" she screeched, the loudness of her voice causing the ceiling to quake and dust to sprinkle down upon them. "I'll never let anyone put me in a cage! Do you hear me? _Nobody._ "

"I don't want to put you in a cage; I want to love you!" Fenrir countered. He watched as Bellatrix's rage calmed, and she seemed to shrink down. He hoped that she would reciporate his feelings—apologise for her rough treatment of him, promise that she would love him forever.

Instead, her body started to vibrate with cruel laughter, and she looked at him with something Fenrir never imagined—pity. "You're pathetic," she muttered, grabbing her overnight bag and swinging it over her shoulder. Before leaving the shack, she threw one last, demeaning stare at him. "Filthy half-breed."


	26. Nightshade

**Written For:**

\- Day 26 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Nostalgia

\- February Event: (word) Betrothed, (object) Engagement/Promise/Wedding Ring

\- Word Prompt Express: married

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Proverbs: "Those who conceal their sins do not prosper, but those who confess and renounce them find mercy." - 28:13

 **Pairings/Characters:** Arcturus II/Lysandra

 **Word Count:** 542

* * *

 **Nightshade**

 _Every now and then the stars align, boy and girl meet by the great design._

When Arcturus looked back on his life, he knew that he had made the right choice in putting a wedding ring on the finger of Lysandra Yaxley. She was old now as was he, but the gold band on her wrinkled finger still shone in the same bright, glowing way—just like their relationship.

He felt lucky to have been one of the few men in his family who really did fall in love with his wife. Of course, like his brother Cygnus, he had been betrothed to marry Lysandra. But unlike Cygnus, he had truly grown to adore her.

It was with fond nostalgia that the married couple were able to look back on the ups and downs of their life. Of course, there had been the issue of their daughter, Cedrella, being disowned from the family for her marriage to the blood traitor. Arcturus was emotional and stubborn, and he had found that area of their life far too difficult to cope with. Lysandra had been his rock—he was sure that her soul was far older than anything he had ever known. She was wise and deep, and her soul had managed to calm him when he was at the lowest point of his life.

She reached across the bed and grasped his knobbly hand with her own old, wrinkled one, and smiled at him. Even in her old age, Arcturus still thought she was the most beautiful person on the earth. Her ash blonde hair had lightened to the snowiest white, her lips were thin and her face was haggard with age, but she was still his wife, and she was perfect. She seemed to sense that Cedrella was on his mind. "Those who conceal their sins do not prosper," she told him, her voice scratchy and harsh. "But those who confess and renounce them find mercy."

"Cedrella does not believe she had anything to confess," Arcturus countered, clasping his wife's hand.

"Perhaps not today," answered Lysandra. "But that may change one day."

"When we are long dead."

"But we'll be with her in spirit," Lysandra finished. The old couple remained in silence for a little while, before Arcturus spoke up.

"Are you ready, my dear?"

"I've never been more ready for anything."

They had decided mutually that today was going to be the day they died. They were old now, and they wanted to die while they still felt able. They didn't want to be fragile and broken elderly people who needed assistance and guidance from their daughters. They didn't want their minds to shrink and their bodies to remain hollow and empty. They wanted to go together, on their own times.

And now was that time.

Arcturus reached to his left for the two vials of deadly poison that he had concocted earlier that day, and he handed one to his wife. She leaned over and pressed a dry, shaky kiss to his lips, and smiled at him. Her positive smile lit a warmth inside him, and he knew he was brave enough to go on.

"I'll see you on the other side," they both whispered in unison, before swallowing the poison.


	27. Another Stranger

**Written For:**

\- Day 27 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Stranger

\- February Event: (word) Heartthrob, (plot/action) Going on a romantic date

\- Word Prompt Express: born

 **Pairings/Characters:** Tom Riddle, Walburga, Orion

 **Word Count:** 476

* * *

 **Another Stranger**

 _It's not a war, no, it's not a rapture. I'm just a person, but you can't take it._

It was the day after Walburga had returned to Hogwarts from the summer holidays for her sixth year, and she was waiting in the Slytherin Common Room for her date. For the first time ever, she was nervous about seeing Tom Riddle, considering what had happened during the summer holidays.

It had shocked everyone when Walburga announced openly to the rest of Slytherin that she was dating Tom Riddle. He was the local heartthrob, Pureblood (or at least, he claimed to be) and the apple of everyone's eye—so it was only natural that Walburga would take him for herself. They had kept a pleasant relationship for a year. Walburga didn't care about his strange ability to speak to snakes—in fact, she thought it was intriguing. When they spoke about Muggle-borns and witches and wizards marrying Muggles, they both exclaimed a similar disgust at the thought.

Tom was perfect for Walburga, and she had every intention of marrying him.

But things had soon changed when she returned home. She had explained to her parents that Tom was Pureblood, and at first they were happy. But after doing some research and being unable to source the name Riddle, they concluded that he was either of a foreign nature, or Tom was lying to her about his blood status, and neither was acceptable for the spoiled princess of the House of Black.

Her parents had made quick work of betrothing her to her cousin, Orion, so that she would have no chance of continuing her relationship with Tom. So, she had returned to Hogwarts with a ring upon her finger, and a heavy heart.

Walburga had done her best to make sure that the Common Room was warm and cosy. She had ordered everyone up to their dormitories and lit candles around the room, trying to pull off a romantic atmosphere, but it didn't really work. Any other time, the date would've been romantic, but she knew it wouldn't be the case that night.

When Tom walked into the common room, he noticed the engagement ring on her finger immediately. "Who is it?" he demanded to know.

"Orion," she whispered, feeling her eyes prickle with tears. She had held back the tears all summer, but it was only now that they were threatening to spill.

Tom was silent for a very long time, and Walburga didn't expect him to say anything - especially not what he did say. "It's fine," he replied haughtily, after a long period of quiet. "It's what is meant to be—it's what you were born to do; preserve your bloodline."

"What now?" Walburga murmured.

Tom folded his arms and glared at her. "Nothing," he spat finally. "You're nothing more than a stranger to me, now."


	28. Black Fairy

**Written For:**

\- Day 28 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Heartbeat

\- Speed Drabble: flying, jumper, "You're incredible."

\- Chocolate Frog Cards: Delvin Whitehorn (Challenge): Incorporate someone flying by any means whatsoever into your story. However, it cannot be during Quidditch.

 **Pairings/Characters:** Bellatrix, Narcissa

 **Word Count:** 370

* * *

 **Black Fairy**

 _I'm the new cancer, never looked better, you can't stand it._

"Cissy, wake up," Bellatrix's voice was sudden in Narcissa's ear, waking her from her sleep. Her eyes sprang open and met with Bellatrix's grin in the dark. "I have something _amazing_ to show you!"

Seventeen year old Bellatrix pulled her sleepy younger sister out of bed by the arm, and was rushing over to the door in a heartbeat. Narcissa followed slowly and silently, noticing that Bellatrix was fully dressed, wearing a black mohair jumper, cotton trousers and flat shoes. It was cold outside, but Bellatrix didn't give Narcissa chance to grab her own sweater. "It's okay, we'll only be a few minutes," she insisted, when Narcissa made an attempt to get a coat.

They were in the back garden within minutes, and Bellatrix pushed Narcissa down onto the bench, before stepping back onto the grass. "What are you doing?" Narcissa demanded to know tiredly. It was dark and she could only see Bellatrix from the moonlight, plus it was _freezing_ —she wanted to be back upstairs in her bed.

"Watch what I learnt," Bellatrix insisted. She didn't mention who she'd learned whatever trick she was about to perform from - but she didn't need to. Narcissa knew exactly what circles her eldest sister was part of these days.

Bellatrix cleared her throat and spread her arms, before mumbling a few incoherent incantations under her breath. Nothing happened for a few moments, and Narcissa was about to roll her eyes and head back inside—when suddenly, Bellatrix's feet left the ground.

She floated for a few seconds, before rising higher and higher, until she was flying above Narcissa's head. She had no access to a broom or a Thestral or any other means of a flying implement—she was making _herself_ fly. Narcissa watched in awe, noticing how spirals of black smoke shrouded and followed her as she moved, leaving wispy trails in the air. They were evidence of dark magic, but Narcissa didn't question it.

"You're incredible!" she exclaimed, as Bellatrix finally set herself back down on the ground. Suddenly, Narcissa was feeling much more awake.

Bellatrix both terrified and amazed her, and it would always be that way.


	29. Howl

**Written For:**

\- Day 29 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Bitter

\- Chocolate Frog Cards: Red Cap (challenge): Use the story of Little Red Riding Hood as inspiration for your story.

\- Candy from the Trolley: Sour Rind Watermelon (challenge): Write about a nice person in a bad situation.

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Once Upon a Time: "My happy ending is finally feeling at home in the world." - Regina

\- Word Prompt Express: nice

 **Pairings/Characters:** Orion/Walburga

 **Word Count:** 488

 **Notes:** Werewolf!AU

* * *

 **Howl**

 _The saints can't help me now, the ropes have been unbound, I hunt for you with bloody feet across the hallowed ground._

Orion hovered outside the cave, where he knew that Walburga slept. In his hand, he held the fresh corpse of a dove—in his mind, a suitable offering for the creature he had grown to adore. A slim, pale arm extended from the darkness of the cave, and the long fingers grasped the feathery body of the bird.

The ominous sounds of tiny bones splintering and the wet squelch of her tongue on the meat could be heard from the cave, and Orion tried not to shudder as he imagined her eating the defenceless creature. Shortly after the sounds ceased, she exited the mouth of the cave, blinking in the sunlight.

Orion felt awe wash over him. Even in the morning after the full moon, in her sickly-pale splendour, he thought she was beautiful. Her lips were curled back in a defensive snarl, there was blood smeared on her cheek and teeth. Her jet-black hair was lank and ruffled, and she was protecting her modesty with a ragged, brown blanket. "What are you doing here, Orion?" she question—just like she questioned him every day.

"I wanted to see you."

"You shouldn't be here. I'm dangerous. I could hurt you," she lifted an arm to wipe the blood from her face. "You're too nice for me, Orion."

Orion didn't reply. He knew that there was truth behind that statement - he was a good person, who came from a good family—and Walburga was nothing but bad news. But he still couldn't tear himself away from her. "I could make you happy. I don't care about what you are. You don't have to live in a cave like an animal."

"I _am_ an animal!" she hissed, and she flew at him suddenly. Orion knew that she expected him to flinch and appear afraid, but he remained still. She hovered, mere inches away from his face.

"You don't have to be the big bad wolf," he murmured, glancing down at her bloody lips. "Don't you want a happy ending?"

"My happy ending is finally feeling at home in the world," Walburga whispered, her voice cracking a little. "And that will never be so."

Before she could turn away, Orion grasped her head and pulled her forwards, crashing his lips into hers. Her mouth was still at first, but after a moment she kissed him back, gently at first, but then it grew hot and domineering. He could taste the bitter, coppery blood in her mouth, and he knew it should scare him, but it only excited him further. When they broke apart for air, Orion pressed his forehead to hers and gripped her upper arms, preventing her from rushing back into the darkness of her cave.

"Don't be afraid," he whispered. "I will take care of you."


	30. Daddy-Daughter Shopping Trip

**Written For:**

\- Day 30 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Rules

\- Chocolate Frog Cards: Lord Draben (prompts): Support, Royal, Lifetime, Connect

\- Candy from the Trolley: Sugar Mice (challenge): Write about children on the move and their exasperated parent/guardian.

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/HP Locations: Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour

\- Word Prompt Express: connect

 **Pairings/Characters:** Cygnus, Bellatrix, Andromeda

 **Word Count:** 487

* * *

 **Daddy-Daughter Shopping Trip**

 _Because you're young, you're wild, you're free, you're dancing circles around me._

Cygnus rubbed the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb, as he followed his two older daughters through Diagon Alley. He was carrying all of their shopping bags as they briskly hopped and skipped ahead, eagerly admiring everything around him.

He had gone through a lifetime of stress, but Cygnus never thought that monitoring two preteens in a shopping district could be so exhausting. He thought that Bellatrix, who was old enough to act responsibly (in his opinion), would be a good influence on the impressionable Andromeda. Andromeda was shopping for a full set of school items, as she would be starting Hogwarts in September. Naturally, she was besides herself with excitement—and Bellatrix did nothing but encourage it.

Normally, it would be Druella's responsibility to take their children shopping. Like most of the women in the Black family, she had a distinct maternal dominance, and seemed to be much more adept at controlling them than he was. However, as Cygnus had a rare few days free of work, Druella had insisted that he take the girls to Diagon Alley. Something about trying to connect with them on a fatherly level. She always complained that Cygnus didn't spend enough time with his daughters, and she thought it would be nice to spend some one-on-one time with Narcissa.

He found traipsing through Diagon Alley to be particularly insufferable. As his presence was so unusual around such areas, he found that many people who recognised him were giving him odd looks—as though he was some kind of royal. Not that he minded such attention, but he couldn't really appreciate it while he was under such stress.

When he spotted the colourful outdoor shades of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, he almost fainted with relief. Normally he wouldn't be seen dead in such a gaudy place, but all he wanted was to rest his aching legs. Andromeda suddenly hurled into him, nearly knocking him over with such force that he had to grab on to a nearby witch for support.

After hastily brushing himself down, he shot a glare at his daughter. "Andromeda," he chastised sternly. "You mustn't run into me like that."

"Sorry, Father," she replied. He could see her cheeks were red with excitement, and her eyes flashed brightly. "Could you take us to the ice cream parlour? _Please,_ Father?"

It was as though she had read his mind; but he wasn't going to let her think that she had won him over so easily. "Perhaps," he pondered. "Are you going to behave yourself and follow my rules?"

Andromeda grinned. "I promise!"

Cygnus, a man who rarely smiled, couldn't help but stifle a chuckle at the expression on Andromeda's face. He nodded towards the ice cream parlour, and followed his daughter. He was certainly looking forward to a nice sit down.


	31. Love of a Mother

**Written For:**

\- Day 31 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Accidental Magic

\- Deck of Cards Club: 7 of Spades: (challenge) Write about losing a loved one, (prompts): (word) pain, (action) throwing knives at a wall

 **Pairings/Characters:** Walburga, Sirius

 **Word Count:** 244

* * *

 **Love of a Mother**

 _Spun the stars on her fingernails, but it never made her happy, cause she couldn't ever have me._

"Get out!" Walburga screamed at her son from her position on the kitchen floor. There were tears staining her face, and her grey-streaked hair was falling out of its tight up-do. Sirius hovered by the doorway to the kitchen, feeling quite awkward.

He preferred it when his mother was screaming, angry and raging with him. But seeing her broken and cowering, sobbing her pain onto the tiled floor. He was breaking her heart.

"Mother," Sirius began, keeping his voice level and low. "I'm sorry, Mother." He was sixteen years old, and about to leave for the Potters' house. This would be the last time that he probably ever spoke to his mother. Carefully, he placed a hand on her shoulder, as if to be comforting.

She threw his hand away with a jerk of her shoulder, and her burst of anger caused a violent display of accidental magic. The drawer closest to her flew open, and every piece of silver cutlery sprang from the drawer and threw itself at Sirius. He ducked and dodged sharp steak knives, turning to see that they had struck into the plaster of the wall behind him.

He grabbed his bag and backed towards the door. He should have known not to underestimate his mother—even if she was beginning to grieve the loss of her eldest son.


	32. Prank of the Century

**Written For:**

\- Day 32 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Fake

\- Candy from the Trolly: Blood Flavoured Lollipop: (challenge) Write about a prank gone wrong.

 **Pairings/Characters:** Walburga, Sirius, Regulus

 **Word Count:** 586

* * *

 **Prank of the Century**

 _Well, they're never gonna get me, I'm like a bullet through a flock of doves._

Regulus hung back tentatively, while Sirius sneaked into their parent's bedroom. Walburga and Orion were fast asleep, as it was well before six in the morning. Walburga would arise promptly at six as she did every morning, which was _far_ too early for Regulus, especially during the summer holidays, but thirteen-year-old Sirius had assured his younger brother that waking up so early would be worth it.

"It's going to be hilarious," Sirius whispered. "As soon as she wakes up and grabs her wand—" he pressed a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter, and raised the object he was holding. It was a fake wand, from Jonko's Joke Shop.

"It's just a fake wand," Regulus scoffed. "It's hardly the prank of the century."

"That's where you're wrong, little brother," Sirius assured. "This fake wand has been hexed. It will turn to custard as soon as she touches it."

Regulus looked sombre. "So how come it hasn't turned to custard already?"

Sirius revealed that he was holding the wand through the fabric of his pyjama shirt, and not making actual skin contact. Regulus shrugged.

"I don't want anything to do with it when it goes wrong." He hung back as Sirius began to creep through the threshold of their bedroom.

He proceeded to quietly take his mother's wand from the bedside table, and hide it in the drawer. He then carefully placed the fake wand on in place of the real one. Regulus was admittedly impressed - the wand was a very realistic replica, and in Walburga's sleep-hazed state, she wouldn't notice the fake wand when she was grabbing it upon waking.

Regulus looked at his watch, which read five-fifty-five. She would be waking up in five minutes. When he looked back up, Sirius was tip-toeing back towards the hallway—but there was something wrong. The space beside Orion was empty. His mother was out of bed.

Regulus shot his gaze back to Sirius, who was suddenly wide-eyed, staring at the space behind Regulus. He turned around slowly, and came face-to-face with his mother, who was standing mere inches away from him. She looked just as intimidating, even in her night cap and gown. Her arms were folded, and she was holding a wand in her hand—Regulus suspected that it was the fake wand, but for some reason, it hadn't turned into custard.

"You shouldn't sneak around this old house at night," Walburga told the pair of them sternly. "You don't know what might bite you." She extended the wand towards Sirius. "I believe this is yours?"

"Yes, Mother," Sirius admitted, hanging his head.

"So, take it."

Sirius blinked up at his mother, and Regulus gave him an encouraging nod. After all, the wand hadn't transformed—Walburga must have lifted the hex from it. His mind boggled as he tried to imagine how she had caused them both to believe that she was still laying in bed, just a couple of inches away from Sirius when he had been trading the wands.

Sirius reached out for the wand, and as soon as it touched his palm, it burst. Thick globules of bright yellow custard spurted over his hands and chest. Regulus had caught some of the back spray, but somehow, Walburga remained untouched. She sidestepped her sons and walked into her bedroom, turning to offer them both a smirk.

"You'll have to try harder than that to fool me."


	33. Fear of Betrothal

**Written For:**

\- Day 33 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Presumptuous

\- Deck of Cards Club: 4 of Diamonds: (challenge) Write about an older person giving advice to a younger person., (prompts): (word) respect, (feeling) afraid, (location) Astronomy Tower, (action) crying alone

 **Pairings/Characters:** Lucretia, Orion

 **Word Count:** 500

* * *

 **Fear of Betrothal**

 _It's not so pleasant and it's not so conventional, it sure as hell ain't normal but we deal, we deal._

Lucretia hovered in the dark shadows of the entrance to the Astronomy Tower, looking over to the balcony. She could see the hunched figure of her younger brother, Orion, and hear his muffled sobs.

"Orion," she murmured, venturing out to join her brother on the balcony. He whirled around, his tear-stained face pale under the moonlight. He wiped his face viciously, and turned back to glare out into the night. "What are you doing out here? You know we're supposed to be in the common room before ten in the evening."

"I couldn't bear to be in there," he whispered hoarsely. "She just won't leave me alone."

Lucretia placed a hand comfortingly on her brother's shoulder, coming to stand beside him, so that she could look into his dark grey eyes. "Who?"

"Walburga," he continued. She probed him with a meaningful look of her eyes, silently insisting that he carry on. "Since she started Hogwarts, she is already so sure that we will be wed when she graduates. Mother and Father have never discussed a betrothal to her, but it seems as though Uncle Pollux has already made a decision that Walburga will marry me."

"Orion, I don't see the problem," Lucretia countered. "You have the option to marry someone of your own blood! That is an honour granted to very few in our family."

Orion's gaze hardened. "Lucretia, there is a reason that we don't always marry within our family! How can you be so presumptuous to think that nothing will become of it? If we had children, what if—what if—" he crumpled into sobs again, clearly imagining the worst. When he spoke again, his voice was full of fear. "I am afraid, sister. I'm afraid for what might come of our offspring. We aren't meant to breed within the family. I've read a lot into it since Walburga came to the school, making these brash claims."

Lucretia rubbed Orion's back soothingly. "Allow me to give you some advice, little brother," she started. "Stop reading these books, and stop worrying so much about the future. Walburga is just a child, and you haven't yet spoke to Mother and Father—for all we know, she could just be saying these things out of her own hopes."

"But why would she hope to marry me?" Orion murmured. "We have essentially grown up together—for Merlin's sake, I helped change her nappies!"

Lucretia stifled a small giggle, and at seeing his sister, Orion started to laugh too. "Just try and ignore her for now," Lucretia continued, once the laughter had subsided. "And stop thinking so much into it!"

Orion leaned forward on the balcony, his dark fringe hanging into his face, and he nodded. "Okay."

"Promise?" Lucretia probed, and Orion looked back at her. She could see the respect he had for his older sister in his sombre gaze.

"I promise."


	34. Baby Secrets

**Written For:**

\- Day 34 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Tea

\- Candy from the Trolley: Pumpkin Pasty (challenge): Write about someone in the hospital.

 **Pairings/Characters:** Cassiopeia

 **Word Count:** 340

* * *

 **Baby Secrets**

 _There are things that I have done, you never should ever know._

When Cassiopeia opened her eyes after a fairly dramatic fainting spell in the middle of Diagon Alley, she was in hospital. She could tell by the smell—a highly clean, disinfectant smell.

A Mediwitch approached her as Cassiopeia's vision adjusted to the bright glow of the hospital room. She was pushing a trolley, and from the metallic rattling sound, Cassiopeia guessed that it contained a pot of tea. She was proved right, as the Mediwitch handed her a cup a few moments after.

"When can I leave?" Cassiopeia asked immediately, taking a delicate sip of the watery tea.

"Oh, you're welcome to go whenever, but it's recommended that you wait until the pregnancy Healer comes along to see you. She has a package with some information about your pregnancy—"

Cassiopeia sat up so suddenly that her tea spilled over the bedsheets and into her lap, but the Mediwitch acted quickly. Before the tea could scald Cassiopeia's legs, the Mediwitch had whipped out her wand and evaporated the tea silently.

Cassiopeia clutched at her chest, staring at the Mediwitch. _"Pregnant?"_ she gasped.

"Yes," the Mediwitch replied sternly, frowning. "You didn't know?" Cassiopeia shook her head, and images of the recent months started flooding to the forefront of her brain. She had engaged in a brief, one-night fling with a Ravenclaw student just before they graduated from Hogwarts. It had been a night after far too much Firewhiskey, and in all honesty, Cassiopeia could hardly remember the event.

She imagined a baby growing in her stomach—a baby with a father that her parents would _never_ approve of.

Her mother was still suffering from the grief of ostracising Marius for being a Squib. If she had to disown a second child, Cassiopeia was sure that it would break her.

She sighed. "I cannot give birth to this baby."

Sadness rose to the Mediwitch's eyes for a moment, but it passed very quickly. She stood up, smoothing down her robes. "Understood."


	35. Dead as a Doornail

**Written For:**

\- Day 35 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Mistakes

\- Chocolate Frog Cards: Carmilla Sanguina (Gold) Write an AU in which any canon female witch is or becomes a vampire.

\- Candy from the Trolley: Black Licorice (challenge): Write about someone who is tall and lanky.

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Figures of Speech: as dead as a doornail,

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Once Upon a Time: "You have made me a monster, but I won't let you do the same thing to her."

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/OC Names: Celia

\- Writing Prompt Club: dead

 **Pairings/Characters:** Violetta Bulstrode, OC

 **Word Count:** 847

* * *

 **Dead as a Doornail**

 _Oh how wrong we were to think, that immortality meant never dying._

When Violetta opened her eyes, she expected darkness. The soothing, painless darkness; the end to her suffering. Instead, she found herself staring up at the speckled night sky, the view obscured by the silhouettes of tall, thorny trees.

She sat up, feeling the cold breeze rush down her throat as she sucked in a breath. Where was she? What was happening?

Violetta closed her eyes again, trying to remember her last thought. She had been at home at Grimmauld Place, in her bed. She had been surrounded by her husband and children—they weren't crying anymore, but their faces were red and puffy with anguish. Violetta had been ill, so very ill that no Healer or Medic could help her. She was dying.

The face which stuck in Violetta's memory the most was that of her eldest daughter, Cassiopeia. Violetta loved all her children, of course, but Cassiopeia was the closest. They engaged in many mother-and-daughter activities together, and Violetta found that she suffered the most when Cassiopeia was away at Hogwarts, compared to how she felt at the absence of her other children.

No mother could truly help having favourites.

It seemed as though Cassiopeia had suffered the most at Violetta's illness. She knew that death was coming to take her mother, and it pained her immensely.

"Cassie," Violette murmured, allowing her eyelids to flutter open once more. Her voice was carried away on the chilly wind, but her daughter didn't appear. Violetta was still sitting on the rough ground in the middle of nowhere, utterly confused.

She climbed to her feet and dusted herself down, realising that she wasn't in her bedclothes, as she had been before. Violetta was clad in fine dress robes, ankle-pinching shoes, and her hair was pinned to the back of her skull, leaving a painful imprint on her scalp. It was with a small gasp, that she realised these were the clothes that she had requested to be buried in.

"I know you're confused," a sweet, languid voice sang from behind her. Violetta spun around to face the person, patting at her pockets desperately. The unknown person laughed—a high, sing-song laugh that seemed to comfort Violetta. "You do not need your wand anymore."

Violetta looked at the person—it was a woman. The woman was tall—taller than any woman that Violetta had ever met before, but there were no heeled shoes on her feet. Her skin was so pale that it was almost grey, but her eyes were a deep, dark brown. Her hair was the same chocolate brown, and it hung around her shoulders in thick ringlets. Aside from the paleness and the Muggle attire that she was wearing, the strange woman didn't seem really all that strange.

"Who are you?" Violetta demanded to know. Her eyes scanned the woman's face, desperate to find something she might recognise, but she came back with nothing. "What have you done to me?"

"My name is Celia," she replied calmly. She strode towards Violetta, holding her palms up in surrender. Violetta began to relax slightly—until she noticed something sharp glimmering in the corner of Celia's smile.

"V...vampire!" Violetta shrieked, and she made to dash in the opposite direction. She didn't take into account the uncomfortable heels that she had been dressed in, however, and she tripped almost as soon as she had taken off. Celia helped her to her feet, gripping her wrists with her long, strong fingers. "Please don't kill me," Violetta whispered, panic swelling within her chest.

"I'm not going to kill you," Celia muttered. "You are already dead."

oOo

"So, I'm dead?" Violetta questioned, after about thirty minutes of Celia explaining her new disposition.

"As dead as a doornail," Celia answered. "But yet you live."

Violetta sighed, looking down at her knees. Her dress had gotten muddy in her earlier struggle, but that was the last of her problems as of now. "Why did you turn me? I was dying. I was ready to die."

Celia shrugged, her brown curls bouncing on her shoulders. "I was interested in you. You were too young and beautiful to die. A woman pushed aside by the patriarchal figure, the sadness at losing your son to the family's incessant beliefs."

"I have made so many mistakes," Violetta continued. "So many mistakes that I have yet to fix. I suppose, I can still fix them now?" she turned to Celia hopefully, but the vampire's face was rigid, her mouth set in thin line.

"You can never go to your old family, Violetta. They think that you are dead now. That is how it must be."

Violetta nodded sadly. "I will miss my daughter so. Cassiopeia...she was my sunshine. The love of my life."

"Should she fall ill, we can take her."

Violetta shot a dark look at Celia. "No," she insisted. "No. I won't give her this life," she paused, taking a breath. "You have made me a monster, but I won't let you do the same thing to her."


	36. Terror in Threes

**Written For:**

\- Day 36 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Books

\- Deck of Cards Club: Queen of Clubs: (challenge) Write about a confident woman., (prompts): (word) independent, (object) dagger

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Personality Types: Compassionate, Confident, Dainty, Fair, Forgiving, Gentle, Honest, Intelligent, Prim, Arrogant, Manipulative, Conceited, Materialistic, Rebellious, Stubborn

\- Writing Prompt Club: powerful

 **Pairings/Characters:** Bellatrix, Andromeda, Narcissa

 **Word Count:** 272

* * *

 **Terror in Threes**

 _She didn't choose this role but she'll play it and make it sincere._

The three sisters were as much alike as they were apart, though they would never admit it.

Narcissa was the youngest; she was the fair. Pretty, dainty Narcissa—a vision of blonde hair and blue eyes, nothing like her older sisters. She was the apple of her daddy's eye, and she knew it. Whilst she appeared simpering, kind and gentle, she was actually quite the opposite. Her prim and proper ways made her materialistic, and nothing was ever good enough for Princess Narcissa.

Andromeda was the middle; she was the rebel. She was modelled in the image of their mother, soft brown hair and eyes, a round, friendly face. Andromeda never appreciated her family's views on Pureblood heritage, but she never let it be known to them until she was much older. She avoided her sisters, seeking solace in her books. She was honest, she was forgiving—but she was stubborn. Her rebellious attitude would see her abjured from the family.

Bellatrix was the eldest; she was dagger. There was no other way to describe Bellatrix—an independent whirlwind of arrogance and confidence, ever since she was born. Her jet-black hair and grey eyes were never kind like Narcissa's, or honest like Andromeda's. She was intelligent and compassionate towards the things that mattered to her—but she was manipulative and conceited. Bellatrix cared for very few people, and she put far too much pressure and on the ones whom she loved.

They were so different, but the Black family had never been blessed with a more confident—and powerful—trio of women.


	37. Happy Birthday, Regulus

**Written For:**

\- Day 37 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Fate

\- Deck of Cards Club: 5 of Diamond: (challenge) Write about the birth of a child, (prompts): (word) joy, (word) family

\- Writing Prompt Club: birthday

 **Pairings/Characters:** Walburga/Orion

 **Word Count:** 209

* * *

 **Happy Birthday, Regulus**

 _How unfair, it's just our luck, found something real that's out of touch._

Orion clutched his wife's clammy hand as she forced her body through the last painful jolts of childbirth. There was a determined look in her dark eyes, much more so than when she had gone into labour with Sirius. Back then, she had been afraid. Orion had never seen his wife so vulnerable as he had when she gave birth to Sirius.

He hoped beyond hope that Walburga would connect with her new son. It was sad, but she had just never bonded properly with Sirius. Orion had seen the disappointment in her eyes as soon as Sirius had been handed to her.

Walburga gave one last, ear-splitting screech, and Regulus Black was born. He was whisked away and wiped clean, whilst Walburga laid back on her bed, panting heavily. Finally, the little blue bundle of joy was handed to his mother, and Orion pressed a kiss to his wife's head. She looked happy—there were tears glistening in the corners of her eyes, and she was wearing a rare smile. It seemed as though fate was finally leading them down a pleasant path.

"Happy birthday, son," he whispered.

Finally, their family was complete.


	38. Little Butterfly

**Written For:**

\- Day 38 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Alone

\- Speed Drabble: (word) butterfly, (word) stretch, (dialogue) "You're too good for this world."

 **Pairings/Characters:** Iola

 **Word Count:** 339

* * *

 **Little Butterfly**

 _I never thought it'd be this way, just me and you, we're here alone._

She shouldn't have to have been alone for this.

Iola felt tears streaming down her face as her body stretched and contorted, preparing to give birth to her child. She was in a Muggle hospital, a grim, dirty place, and only one nurse was at her side. Iola knew she was too young and surely hadn't had any of her own children yet, but there wasn't much else she could do.

Her parents had abjured her from the Wizarding World after she chose to marry Bob Hitchens. But that wasn't where it ended, no. When her father discovered that she was pregnant, he cursed her—a dreadful, evil curse, which would prevent Iola from ever having a baby.

When her pregnancy continued, she assumed that the curse had gone wrong, or that her father was merely trying to scare her. But now she knew that something was wrong. She hadn't felt the strong kicks of her baby from within her for a long time. She was going to give birth to a stillborn.

She told Bob the news, and he couldn't take it. He fled her side, promising to return once all of this was over, but Iola wasn't sure she ever wanted to see him again. She had sacrificed her entire life for Bob, and now that she was suffering, he couldn't bear the pain. He had wanted a joyous birth; he wanted a family; but he didn't want the pain.

With one final, painful push, the baby burst out onto the table of which she was laying. She didn't dare look as the nurse bundled up the baby, only daring to sneak a peek when the nurse handed her the child.

It was a boy; a silent, grey little thing. But he was her son, and Iola loved him nonetheless. She pressed a gentle kiss to his cold forehead. "Fly, little butterfly," she whispered. "You're too good for this world."


	39. Married Pigs

**Written For:**

\- Day 39 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Space

\- The Emotion Challenge: Bored

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Scenarios: Miserable people meeting at a wedding

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Sex and the City: (word) Intellectual, (quote) After a while you just want to be with the one who makes you laugh., (action) Couple eating off the same fork, (dialogue) "I'm beginning to think I'm not the marrying kind."

 **Pairings/Characters:** Barty, Regulus

 **Word Count:** 565

* * *

 **Married Pigs**

 _I'm wrecking this evening already and loving every minute of it._

Barty rolled his eyes expressively as he pushed his way through the crowd, trying to find a secluded area. Finally, his eyes settled on a small table in the far corner of the canopy, spaced away from the rest of the wedding party.

He hated weddings. No, he didn't just hate them—he _abhorred_ them. The guests always acted conceited and stuck-up, and it was more of an excuse for the women to prance around in their most expensive finery, desperately trying to out-do the bride. Thinking of the bride, he glanced over to the long table, where Narcissa was sitting and flashing a forced smile to her guests.

"Ridiculous, isn't it?" a familiar voice commented. Barty looked up to see his old best friend, Regulus, advancing on his table. He sat down beside Barty and yawned. "I'm terribly bored. I've been here all day—you're lucky, you only had to come to the after party."

"I'm still bored," Barty grumbled, checking his watch. It had only just turned eight. His father generally wasn't invited to these kind of events, but his mother and grandmother, being part of the Black family, always tried to show their faces. He spotted his mother, chatting animatedly with one of her cousins. There was no way she was going to be leaving any time soon, and she would say it was unsightly for Barty to go home alone.

"Well, at least we can be bored and miserable together." Regulus pushed a tuft of his hair out of his face, continuing to watch Narcissa. She was still smiling like a painted doll, allowing Lucius to feed her pieces of wedding cake from his fork. Barty groaned in disgust, and Regulus laughed. "It's a total mess," he continued. "Narcissa is so clever - she's _intellectual_. But now that she's married to him, she's reverted into some kind of stupid child. Being fed at the table and treat like a doll. All she is worth now is the hundreds of little Lucius Malfoys that she's going to churn out."

Barty raised an eyebrow. "I've never viewed Narcissa as an intellectual. She always seemed like she would enjoy this kind of life, in my opinion."

"That's because you don't know her like I do," retorted Regulus. A chubby-cheeked cherub soared in Regulus's direction, aiming it's heart-tipped arrow in his direction, and Regulus swatted it out of the way. "When I get married, there will be _none_ of this crap," he muttered. "It's hardly like Mother will be bothered—she has no interest in this stuff either." He nodded towards Walburga Black, who was sitting in her own corner of the canopy. She was the only woman wearing black robes, and was sitting with her arms around her, as though she was protecting herself from the onslaught of lovey-dovey wedding merchandise.

Barty sniggered. "And when do you plan to get married?" he questioned trying to keep the jealousy out of his voice.

Regulus shrugged, looking at the floor. "You'll probably get married before I do."

"I highly doubt that," Barty replied. "I'm beginning to think I'm not the marrying kind."

Regulus glanced up, his face full of questions. "Why is that?"

"Well," Barty paused, feeling his cheeks flame up. "After a while, you just want to be with the one who makes you laugh."


	40. Paper Hearts

**Written For:**

\- Day 40 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Letters

\- The Emotion Challenge: Heartbroken

 **Pairings/Characters:** Andromeda, Druella

 **Word Count:** 289

* * *

 **Paper Hearts**

 _It can all get a little crazy unless there's something to hold on to, for me, it was true love._

' _Mother,_

 _Please reply to me. It doesn_ _'t have to be a full letter_ — _just a single piece of parchment with your name on it would suffice! I just need to know that you're listening to me, that you're reading my words._

 _I desperately want to talk to you. You are my mother, and I love you dearly. I tried to bring my present to you for your birthday, but Bella wouldn't let me near the house. I know that Daddy would be cross if he even saw me, but please make an exception._

 _I'm sorry for the choices I made, but they were_ my _choices to make. I'm only human_ — _I do not see why it matters that Ted's parents aren't wizards. I've never understood the logic. What really makes our family purer than them, if we are willing to disown our sons and daughters for their choices in marriage?_

 _I would give anything just to hear a word of your voice again. Please write to me._

 _Andromeda.'_

Druella placed the piece of parchment down on the desk, before covering her eyes with her hand. It broke her heart to continue to receive these letters from Andromeda. She wished that she could just throw them away, but she couldn't bear the thought of doing it.

Even though she would never have the courage to put pen to paper and speak to Andromeda again, Druella tucked the letter away where her husband wouldn't find it, along with the others that Andromeda had written. Even if she never got her daughter back, at least she had a part of her here.


	41. Flying Lesson

**Written For:**

\- Day 41 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Flying Lesson

\- The Emotion Challenge: Nervous

 **Pairings/Characters:** Andromeda, Tonks

 **Word Count:** 219

* * *

 **Flying Lesson**

 _As long as you can make a promise not to break my little heart._

"Mum, _please_ will you teach me how to fly today?" a seven year old Nymphadora begged, hanging onto the back of Andromeda's robes. "It's a nice day and everything. You can't make anymore excuses!"

Andromeda resisted the urge to snigger. It was true: she had been thinking up an excuse every time Nymphadora had requested a flying lesson. She had blamed the bad weather, her poor eyesight, a lack of flying abilities to teach with—but it seemed that Nymphadora wasn't taking no for an answer.

It wasn't that Andromeda didn't want to teach Nymphadora how to fly. She did, but she was terribly nervous. She already spent most of her life living in fear, terrified that her older sister was going to swoop in and snatch Nymphadora right out of her hands. Sending her seven year old twenty feet into the sky—well, that didn't bear thinking about.

Nymphadora looked up at her mother with large, pleading eyes. The young girl knew what she was doing; the puppy dog eyes never failed with Andromeda.

"Oh, fine," Andromeda huffed finally, grabbing her cloak from the bannister as they passed. "But you're not going more than ten feet off the ground until your father is home!"


	42. Head Over Heels

**Written For:**

\- Day 42 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Believe

\- The Emotion Challenge: Irritable

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Scenarios: I tripped and fell face-first into a large puddle and you're the only one who saw

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Sex and the City: (dialogue) "Excuse me, is this your hand on my knee?" / "N-no." / "Alright, lets just keep them where we can see them, okay?", (word) Flaw, (word) Loser, (location) Street Corner, (word) Trash, (word) Helpless

 **Pairings/Characters:** Bellatrix/Rodolphus

 **Word Count:** 342

* * *

 **Head Over Heels**

 _There's no remedy, for memory, your face is like a melody, it won't leave my head._

A street corner wasn't the place that Rodolphus Lestrange expected to properly meet the woman who would become his wife.

Of course, being in the Pureblood circle, he already knew who she was. The eldest sister, a cold, callous individual who kept to herself, appearing untouchable to everyone around her. She seemed to have no external flaw, and she looked at everyone else like they were trash.

Which was exactly how she looked at Rodolphus. He was rounding the corner, rushing his way down the street where the Leaky Cauldron was situated. He should have been looking where he was going, but Bellatrix's sudden appearance outside the pub distracted him. His foot had become lodged in a crack on the pavement, and he had gone sprawling into a puddle, splashing her winkle-toed boots on the way.

Rodolphus blinked up at her, feeling thankful that there was no one else around on the street—but he still felt like a total loser. With an irritable roll of her eyes, Bellatrix offered her hand to him, and pulled him to his feet. She guided him towards a stone bench outside the pub, and sat down beside him.

"Thanks," he muttered, drying his robes out with his wand. "I can't believe I just did that. I'm not really that helpless, though. I could've got myself out of that puddle." He shot Bellatrix a grin, but it wasn't reciprocated.

"I don't believe you," she replied irritably, but there was a humorous glimmer in her eye. "But I suppose you can buy me a coffee to make up for splashing my shoes."

Rodolphus smiled, and clapped a hand down on her knee. It was a completely friendly move, but her dark eyes hardened immediately. "Excuse me, is this your hand on my knee?"

"N-no..." Rodolphus pulled his hand back, feeling suddenly nervous. She gave him a cruel grin. "Alright, lets just keep them where we can see them, okay?"


	43. Lost Hopes

**Written For:**

\- Day 43 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Shout

\- The Emotion Challenge: Hopeless

\- Potions Club/Ingredients: Mistletoe Berries - Write about a couple wanting to get pregnant.

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Poems Porn: "Just because it isn't happening right now, doesn't mean it never will."

 **Pairings/Characters:** Bellatrix/Rodolphus

 **Word Count:** 417

* * *

 **Lost Hopes**

 _You're the one that I need, I'm the one that you loathe._

Rodolphus clutched his wife's hand as they waited for the Healer at the Family Planning Clinic to return to them. This was their fifth time here, and Rodolphus knew that Bellatrix was becoming impatient.

Andromeda had managed to concieve a child with the Mudblood, and it had recently become common knowledge that Narcissa was expecting a baby. It wasn't _fair._ Bellatrix was the eldest, and her biological clock was slowly ticking. Before long, she would be too old to have a baby.

Rodolphus glanced at her face as they waited. Her lips were set in a thin line, and her forehead was wrinkled. She made it look as though she was impatient that she was waiting so long—and she probably was, but Rodolphus knew that she was worried more than anything.

When the Healer came out of the back room, she didn't even need to say anything to Bellatrix and Rodolphus. The disdainful look on her face as she looked down at her clipboard said it all. Bellatrix jumped up from her orange plastic seat immediately, and stormed out of the clinic. Rodolphus followed after her, catching up with her once they were out on the street. He grabbed her arm, and she snatched it back angrily.

"Get away from me!" she shouted, glaring at him. "Just leave me alone."

"Just because it isn't happening right now, doesn't mean it never will," Rodolphus replied, trying to calm her down. She sank down onto a bench, putting her face in her hands.

"Why can't I have a baby?" she whispered hopelessly. "I'll never be able to give him a baby..."

Rodolphus reeled back, narrowing his eyes. _Him?_

Of course. Rodolphus didn't know why he hadn't noticed it before, but it was obvious. Bellatrix didn't want to have a baby for them, and because she wanted to bring a child into the world. She wanted to have a baby to give to _Voldemort._ A child that would grow up alongside the child of the prophecy, a child who he could use to his advantage.

That was why she felt so hopeless.

Rodolphus looked down at his hands, unsure of what to say. He had been so desperate to get his wife pregnant, to be able to bring a baby into this world with the woman he loved, but he had a sudden change of heart.

Deep down, he was thankful that they were having problems.


	44. Beauty Is In The Eye

**Written For:**

\- Day 44 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Apple

\- The Emotion Challenge: Jealous

\- Potions Club/Ingredients: Lacewing Flies - Write about beauty being devoured or snuffed out.

 **Pairings/Characters:** Alexis Walkin, Phoebe

 **Word Count:** 497

* * *

 **Beauty Is In The Eye...**

 _And through it all how could you cry for me? Cause I don't feel bad about it._

Phoebe Black had always been the apple of her mother and father's eye. She was beautiful, with pin-straight ebony hair and glittering, sapphire-blue eyes, and she was smart, too. Licorus was the only other child of their family who went to Hogwarts besides Phoebe—and Phoebe, being a girl, wouldn't have gone, if it wasn't for her intellect.

Mr. Black just didn't believe in girls getting an education. He believed that all they needed to know was enough magic to cook dinner and keep the house tidy. Hesper, Licorus's twin sister, had no qualms about this. She was raised by Mrs. Black as the perfect housewife-to-be.

But Phoebe had other ideas. She wasn't about to sit back and become a trophy wife; she wanted to learn and have a career. Mr. Black relented and allowed her to go to Hogwarts, and everyone was happy. Well, everyone except one person.

Alexis Walkin had always been jealous of her elder sister, ever since she was a small child. While Phoebe's hair was long and thick and black, Alexis's was thin and wispy brown. Phoebe's big blue eyes made everyone smile, but Alexis's were dull and steel-grey. Phoebe was slender and well-figured, but Alexis, who was still only a child, was podgy and resented her thick waistline.

Her life revolved around Phoebe's exquisite external beauty. Her mind was throttled by images of shiny blue eyes and Phoebe's pretty, tittering laughs. Mr. Black paid no attention to Alexis, as he was busy teaching Licorus to take over as head of House of Black, and Mrs. Black spent her days training Hesper to be a good future wife. Alexis wasn't taught anything and she had no future at Hogwarts to look forward to. All she had was her obsession with Phoebe.

Accidents started to happen. First, it was her hair. Phoebe came down the stairs for breakfast, and was shocked when she looked in the mirror, seeing that she was suddenly completely bald. Alexis had laughed and snorted into her lumpy porridge.

Mrs. Black had magically fixed Phoebe's hair with a charm, but it was a waste of time. After that, Alexis would sneak into Phoebe's bedroom during the night with a sharp knife, ready to hack at her regrown locks.

When cutting off Phoebe's hair didn't satisfy her jealousy anymore, Alexis's cruelty grew harsher. Those big blue eyes still haunted her dreams and glared at her daily. Something had to be done about them.

The kitchen was home to an ornate melon-baller, which Mrs. Black only used when they were hosting parties. It was the perfect tool.

Alexis sneaked it upstairs in the dead of the night, and hovered over her older sisters form. Carefully, she dug the melon-baller into the socket of Phoebe's left eye—and scooped out the eyeball as easy as ice-cream.

Phoebe's screams echoed into the night.


	45. Perfect Solitude

\- Day 45 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Social

\- The Emotion Challenge: Calm

\- Hogwarts Funfair/Horse Race Prompt: Aquamarine

 **Pairings/Characters:** Regulus

 **Word Count:** 318

* * *

 **Perfect Solitude**

 _No one even knows how hard life was, I don't even think about it now because I've finally found you._

Regulus was never much of a social person.

In fact, he really abhorred spending time with people. It was one of the reasons he enjoyed his Quidditch position so much—while he was up in the air, he wasn't having to try to get goals past the Keeper, nor was it his responsibility to bat other players off their brooms. All he had to do was focus on getting the Golden Snitch, and making sure that the opposing team's Seeker didn't get to it first.

When he was up there, all he had was the rush of the wind in his hair and the breath of crisp oxygen in his throat. He could soar as high as he wanted, as far away from the rumble of the crowd if he pleased. He could be alone.

Life with his family was _never_ lonely, much to his distaste. But when his mother and father decided to take the family to a house by a lake in the midwest of England, he finally discovered true solace.

The lake by the old wooden house was a glittering, untouched jewel in the centre of a thick forest. There was no nearby trail, and Regulus knew that the entire forest was a Wizarding protected area, if the signs warning hikers of fairies had anything to go by.

For days during their summer at the lakehouse, Regulus was calmed by the beautiful, aquamarine lake. He would float on his back across it's glimmering surface, admiring the vision of the sunshine through the leaves above. When he wasn't bathing in the cool waters, he would sit on a rock beside the lake, dangling his legs in the water.

The lake was the perfect definition of solitude, and Regulus never wanted to leave its side again.


	46. Bad Disease

\- Day 46 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Little

\- The Emotions Challenge: Annoyed

\- Hogwarts Funfair/Ferris Wheel: (dialogue) "You can kiss me if you like." / "Thanks, _," . . . "But frankly I'd prefer to kiss the horse."

\- Hogwarts Funfair/Hook-a-Duck: (plot point) Unrequited Love:

 **Pairings/Characters:** Andromeda, Rabastan

 **Word Count:** 668

* * *

 **Bad Disease**

 _Then he fell in love and he didn't know how, but he couldn't get out._

"Andromeda, you simply _must_ meet Rodolphus's brother," Bellatrix insisted, as she did her best to lure her younger sister to the drawing room. "He's downstairs now, and he's just _itching_ to meet you."

"I know who Rabastan Lestrange is!" Andromeda snapped irritably, not looking up from the book she was reading. She was laying on her stomach on her bed, her back to Bellatrix. "He's big-bad-Rodolphus's little brother, and he was in Narcissa's year at Hogwarts. I know enough of him to know that I'm _not interested._ "

She could almost feel Bellatrix's attitude growing colder. "Well, tough," she hissed. "Because Daddy has already told me to tell you that if you don't go downstairs and meet him, he's going to lock that owl of yours up so you can stop communicating with whoever it is you're always writing to!" Bellatrix's eyes flashed suddenly and maliciously. "Daddy might not know who it is, but _I_ certainly saw how touchy-feely you were with that Mudblood when we—"

"—Alright!" Andromeda yelled, throwing her book in Bellatrix's direction. It crashed against the doorframe just beside Bellatrix's head. "I'm coming, okay?"

Bellatrix smirked, before turning to head back down to the drawing room.

oOo

It had been Mr. Lestrange who suggested that Andromeda and Rabastan apparate to the stables at the Lestrange manor, after Andromeda commented that she quite enjoyed horse-riding. She didn't really like horses _that_ much, but getting out of the way of her sister and father's determined stares was worth having to endure Rabastan.

They had all annoyed her. It was like she had become susceptible to some annoying disease. Bellatrix with her pushy nature, her father with his silent threats, and now Rodolphus and Rabastan. Mr. Lestrange wanted both his sons married off to the good Black daughters, but she couldn't think of anything worse.

The pair walked through the stables quietly, and Andromeda noted how Rabastan's voice kept catching in his throat. It was as though he was about to say something, but decided last minute to keep his mouth shut. Eventually, she stopped in her tracks and spun around to face him, uncaring that her annoyance was evident across her face. "What is it, Rabastan?" she snapped.

Rabastan's cheeks flushed red, and he started fumbling around in his pocket. Finally, he retrieved a small velvet box, and Andromeda resisted the urge to roll her eyes as he knelt down on one knee, popping open the box to reveal an ornate gold ring, inset with tiny, glittering emeralds. "Will you marry me?"

Andromeda pressed her finger and thumb to the bridge of her nose, trying to contain her annoyance. After taking a few breaths, she returned to Rabastan's pitiful position, and folded her arms. "I don't really know you, Rabastan. Why are you asking to marry me?"

Rabastan stood up, slowly and awkwardly, and closed the velvet box. "Well, it's what our parents want."

"Is it what you want?"

Rabastan flushed again. "I think you're beautiful. I'd be happy to call you my wife."

Andromeda looked away, trying to hide her scowl. "Well, I think it would be more appropriate if we got to know each other first." She started walking back to the point where they had apparated, and Rabastan hurried after her.

A few times, he tried to grab her hand, but she eventually stuffed them in the pockets of her jacket. When they reached the apparition point, she turned to face him, ready to head back.

He paused again, looking shifty.

"What?!" she asked again, getting more and more fed up with Rabastan Lestrange by the second.

"Well..." he took another breath, and Andromeda prayed that he wasn't going to ask her to marry him again. "You can kiss me, if you like?"

Andromeda choked back a laugh. "Thanks, Rabastan," she positioned her feet, ready to spin around and apparate. "But frankly, I'd prefer to kiss the horse."


	47. Our Secrets

\- Day 47 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Staircase

\- The Emotion Challenge: Embarrassed

\- Hogwarts Funfair/Hedge Maze - Right Turn: (dialogue) "Don't answer that!"

 **Pairings/Characters:** Regulus, Sirius

 **Word Count:** 413

* * *

 **Our Secrets**

 _It was so clear that he was the only one for me. We both knew right away._

Sirius pushed past Regulus when they reached Grimmauld Place, barging into the house. Regulus rolled his eyes. He knew Sirius was embarrassed—and he had every right to be.

Regulus had been charted with the task of going to the Potters' house to retrieve Sirius—but Sirius hadn't _been_ at Godric's Hollow. Regulus had suspected where Sirius had been, but of course he wasn't about to tell his mother.

James Potter had nodded with a smirk, when Regulus asked whether Sirius would be at the cottage. Just a short apparation later, he had entered the small Lupin household, and discovered his brother tangled in the bedsheets with his best friend.

Sirius had been _mortified._ He screamed bloody murder at Regulus for imposing on his private life, and threatened to tear off his most treasured bodily parts if he even dared to tell mother.

"Of course I'm not going to tell her!" Regulus yelled after Sirius as they entered Grimmauld Place. He knew that Walburga and Orion were out of the house, as they were spending the evening elsewhere. "I don't _care_ who you're into, Sirius. It doesn't matter to me."

Sirius was halfway up the staircase when he whirled around, his long black hair slashing through the air. His eyes were menacing, and they narrowed on Regulus like cruel slits of black diamond. "You always tell Mother," he snapped. "You're a stupid little snitch. It doesn't matter anyway—I'm leaving."

"Sirius!" Regulus groaned, rushing up the stairs after his older brother. He entered Sirius's bedroom, to see him surrounded by various items of clothing which were soaring through the air. "I'm not going to tell Mother, especially not when I have secrets of my own!" he yelled, and Sirius froze. Slowly, he turned around, his face softening.

"You do?" he muttered, folding his arms.

Regulus nodded, feeling his face burning. "And they're not much different from yours, either."

"Who is it?" Sirius asked, an amused smirk playing on his lips. "Wait, don't answer that!" he decided, shaking his head. "I don't want to imagine whichever of your little mates is sleeping with my baby brother."

Regulus rolled his eyes, and held out his hand to Sirius. "I promise I'll keep your secret, and you can keep mine. Deal?"

Sirius pressed his lips together, seeming to think about the matter. Finally, he extended his hand and nodded. "Deal."


	48. The Grimoire

\- Day 48 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Box

\- The Emotion Challenge: Fascinated

 **Pairings/Characters:** Walburga, Bellatrix

 **Word Count:** 705

* * *

 **The Grimoire**

 _If you could only see the beast you've made of me, I held it in but now it seems you've set it running free._

Bellatrix was fifteen when she was called to her Aunt's private chamber. When she entered the dim study, Walburga was sitting behind a solid oak desk, her long, clawed fingers entwined in front of her. Her dark eyes watched Bellatrix as she advanced upon the desk. "Take a seat, dear," she insisted, and Bellatrix sat down in the uncomfortable chair opposite the desk.

"You wanted to see me, Aunt Walburga?" Bellatrix questioned, arching a thick, dark brow. She couldn't help but feel like she was in some kind of trouble, even though she highly doubted that to be the case. It was common knowledge that Walburga favoured Bellatrix over her other two nieces—Cygnus often even joked that she preferred Bellatrix over her own sons.

"Yes, child," Walburga said. "Tell me; do you know what a Grimoire is?"

"Of course," Bellatrix answered. "An ancient spellbook."

Walburga's eyes flashed. "Clever, as always, Bellatrix. Grimoires are generally rare in our world, and many haven't been newly created for centuries. The ones that exist are passed down through important families," Walburga puffed out her chest proudly as she spoke. "Like ours."

"You mean..." Bellatrix's eyes widened, and she watched Walburga waved her fingers in a come-hither motion, in the direction of a shelving unit in the corner. A large, dusty wooden box slid off the shelf and soared towards the desk, landing with a thud. Walburga cleared the air of the dust, and reached into the breast of her robes for something.

It was an ornate key on a long, silver chain. She used the key to unlock the box, and Bellatrix gasped as Walburga carefully pulled out a thick, leather-bound book.

She rested it on top of the box and opened it carefully, placing a fingertip on the yellowing page. Bellatrix leaned forward, fascinated by the musty old book, and read a list of names, all written in black ink. _Cassandra Black, Hesper Black, Elladora Black, Cassiopeia Black._ The very last name was about a third down the page: _Walburga Black._

Dates were listed beside the names, too. Besides Cassandra Black was 1771. "That's when the Grimoire was written?" Bellatrix asked, glancing up at Walburga.

Walburga nodded. "Your ancestor Cassandra started the Grimoire, but she didn't write this entire book. Spells and potions have advanced over time. She passed the Grimoire on to her niece, Hesper, who added to it. Hesper then passed it to _her_ niece, Elladora," Walburga gave a small, dark chuckle. "The things that she wrote in it are _definitely_ interesting. Elladora passed it on to my Aunt Cassiopeia, who passed it on to me," she paused, and flipped the book towards the back, where there were a series of blank pages. "And now I'm passing it on to you, Bellatrix."

Bellatrix blinked up at Walburga. "Me?" she whispered. "Why me? Why not Regulus?"

Walburga rolled her eyes and scoffed. "My sons are not worthy of this kind of magic. What's in here is _dark,_ Bellatrix. I would never offer something like this to Sirius, and Regulus could not handle it. There's no one else who I trust more to use and add to this book than you," she licked her lips. "One day, when you have had your fill of the power that Grimoire has to offer, you will pass it on."

Bellatrix felt a whole mixture of emotions - dumbfounded, shocked, but most of all, _fascinated_. She wanted nothing more than to rush to her bedroom and pour over the contents of the Grimoire. "I don't know what to say," she replied quietly.

"It is far better for the Grimoire to be passed on to a woman, rather than the pathetic men of our family," sniggered Walburga cruelly. "There is a reason that the women from the House of Black rise up as matriarchs, you know," she added, a sneer playing on her lips.

Bellatrix scooped the Grimoire up in her arms, and returned Walburga's smile. "Thank you, Aunt Walburga."

"You're welcome," Walburga replied. "I know that you will do great things with that book."


	49. Tyrant

\- Day 49 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Tyrant

\- The Emotion Challenge: Hopeful

\- Hogwarts Funfair/Carousel - Car 11, Seat 3: (emotion) Hopefulness

 **Pairings/Characters:** Walburga, Sirius

 **Word Count:** 431

* * *

 **Tyrant**

 _I never meant to take it out on all you, life has it's problems, and I get more than my share._

"I don't want your life!" a twelve year old Sirius yelled at his mother, as she cornered him in the drawing room. She had been trying to get him to herself all week, so that she could talk to him about a future betrothal.

Orion had been concerned, after all Sirius was only twelve. But Walburga had shrugged his worries off. "It's good for him to learn early," she had said. "You and I were betrothed before we were born." After that, Orion had simply shook his head and returned his nose to his newspaper.

Sirius glared at the newspaper over in the living chair, hoping that his stare could burn through the _Daily Prophet_ and into his father's face. A rustling of the pages suggested otherwise.

"It's not about having my life," Walburga snarled, grabbing her son's shoulders and pushing him down onto a seat. She detested it when her sons and husband didn't obey her tyrannical rule of the House of Black. "But you are going to listen to me, or so help me..."

"Who is it?" Sirius demanded to know. "I suppose it's Bellatrix you want me to marry?" he shuddered inwardly as he thought of his older cousin.

"Of course not," chirped Walburga. "Narcissa, actually."

"I'm. Not. Marrying. My. Cousin."

"I had been hopeful that you wouldn't say that, Sirius," Walburga sighed. "Orion, speak to your son."

"I'm having no say in this," Orion muttered from behind his newspaper. Walburga rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to Sirius. As she spoke, an owl soared through the open window. It was a familiar white female owl, with black feathers speckled across its back. It was Aunt Druella's owl.

Sirius allowed himself to be filled with hopefulness that something had happened for Druella and Cygnus to change their mind about him marrying Narcissa. Surely Aunt Druella would have had a say.

Walburga snatched the piece of parchment between her fingernails and unrolled it. She read it silently, and then threw it into the fire, turning to glare at Sirius.

"You're a lucky boy," she sneered, her lip curling. "My dear brother has retracted his decision to marry his daughter within the family. It seems his relationship with Abraxas Malfoy is flourishing..." she stalked out of the hallway, her irritable muttering echoing through the house.

Sirius leaned back on his chair and sighed in relief. It seemed that things might be going his way after all.


	50. Ancient Runes

\- Day 50 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge:

Sadness

\- The Emotion Challenge: Sad

\- Hogwarts Funfair/Carousel - Car 4, Seat 3: (plot point) somebody takes an exam

\- Hogwarts Funfair/Horse Race - Marauders Era

 **Pairings/Characters:** Regulus, Barty

 **Word Count:** 387

* * *

 **Ancient Runes**

 _I want my cake and I want to eat it too, I want to have fun and be in love with you._

Regulus buried his head in his arms, trying desperately to ignore the sounds of everyone else's quills scratching their parchment. It was the third OWL that he had taken, and so far, it was the worst.

Why had he even picked Ancient Runes as a subject, anyway? He never paid attention to the silly little squiggles that had apparent meanings. He had no interest in their unique code and language. All he wanted to do was play Quidditch.

A familiar cough sounded somewhere in front of him, and he peeked through the gap in his folded arms. Barty sat a few seats diagonal from him, his quill moving rapidly across his page. _Him._ He was the reason that Regulus had chosen Ancient Runes. Picking that subject meant that he had just a bit more time to spend alongside him.

He sat up straight, resisting the urge to groan out loud. The first question still sat empty in front of him, and he wished with all of his might that he could take a look inside Barty's mind for just a second, so he could get at least a couple of the answers right.

It filled Regulus with sadness to know that Barty _hated_ his intellect. He was a subject of bullying, which of course was a reason for him to dislike his advanced brain, but he had so many options ahead of him. Barty had the opportunity to be _anything_ he wanted, and Regulus couldn't even get past the first question on his test.

He sat back sadly, looking down at the page. The rune on the first question _did_ look familiar, somehow. A series of straight lines, connected in the right places. He glanced again over at the back of Barty's head, wishing more than anything that he could just spend a few minutes alone with Barty right now. He didn't care if it was to fool around, or whether they actually did some studying. He just wanted a moment to talk to Barty.

He _loved_ him.

Regulus blinked. _Love_.

That was the rune on question one.

He grinned, allowing his quill to fly across the page. Finally, he was getting somewhere.


	51. Unlikely Friends

\- Day 51 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Reflection

\- The Emotion Challenge: Shy

\- Hogwarts Funfair/Hedge Maze - Left Turn: (dialogue) "Fine. But I'm coming with you."

\- Hogwarts Funfair/Dunk Tank: For WolfWinks :) James/Regulus

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Scenarios: There are loads of empty seats on this train but you choose to sit with me.

 **Pairings/Characters:** James/Regulus

 **Word Count:** 454

* * *

 **Unlikely Friends**

 _We watch the day go by, stories of all we did, it made me think of you._

Regulus sighed as he stared out of the window at the passing scenery. His reflection glared back at him. _No-one on this train wants to sit with you, Regulus_ , his conscience was seething. _Why can_ _'t you just be popular like Sirius?_

It was his first year at Hogwarts, so it was to be expected that he didn't have any friends yet. All of his family members who were at Hogwarts were older than him, and they had their own friends. They didn't want their kid cousin (or brother, in Sirius's case) tagging along.

Sirius had bolted away from Regulus the minute they arrived on the platform. He had no interest in making sure Regulus wasn't on his own.

As he watched the hills and fields pass by, he wondered how far away from Hogwarts the train was. His thoughts were interrupted, however, by the sound of the door to his compartment opening.

A familiar, older boy was standing in the entryway. He had scruffy, short black hair, and wore round spectacles. He grinned mischievously, before closing the compartment door behind him and sitting opposite Regulus. "I'm James," he introduced, holding out his hand for Regulus to shake. "Sirius told us that his baby brother was going to be joining the school this year. I just had a right go at him for leaving you sitting on your own, that's no way to treat your brother."

Regulus smiled shyly. "You didn't have to come here," he replied, shaking James's hand.

"Of course I did," James replied. "If I had a kid brother, I'd want my friends to be nice to him, too. Anyway, the gang are all coming now to join us in this compartment," he leaned forward, holding his hand up like he was going to tell a secret. "Not because they want to join us, but because your charming brother let off a dungbomb in there."

Regulus laughed, but the smile left his face when he remembered Sirius. "No offence, James, but I'll probably find another compartment before my brother and your friends come along. He would _hate_ the thought of being forced to sit beside me." Regulus stood up, reaching for his rucksack. "But it was nice to meet you."

James grabbed Regulus's hand suddenly, letting it go almost as quickly. "Don't go," he said quietly.

"It would be best." Regulus allowed the shadow of a smile to ghost his face, before reaching for the compartment door.

"Fine," James said, and Regulus heard him climb up from his seat. "But I'm coming with you."

Regulus couldn't help but smile. Things were looking up.


	52. Ice Cream Sundaes

\- Day 52 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Shadow

\- The Emotion Challenge: Eager

\- Hogwarts Funfair/Carousel: Car 4, Seat 1 - (plot point) somebody receives a birthday gift

 **Pairings/Characters:** Violetta, Marius

 **Word Count:** 342

* * *

 **Ice Cream Sundaes**

 _I don't love you I'm just passing the time, you could love me if I knew how to lie._

"Do calm down, Marius," Violetta Black chastised her son, as they strolled through the busy Diagon Alley together. The wizarding shopping district wasn't very old, and there weren't that many shops open just yet—but they weren't here to shop, specifically.

Marius skipped along beside his mother eagerly, trying to clutch at her hand. Every time he did so, Violetta would snatch her hand back, glaring around to make sure no one had seen them.

It was Marius's sixth birthday, and he still hadn't shown any signs of magical talent yet. Every other member of the Pureblood family had shown their first signs extremely early. Marius was the first to be so late. Angrily, his father had refused to allow Marius any birthday present today, unless he buckled up his ideas and showed some sign of magic.

But no matter how much it embarrassed Violetta to have bore a son who was magically barren, she couldn't bear the idea of not allowing her young son to celebrate on his birthday. So, as soon as Cygnus had left for work, she had dressed Marius up and taken him out to Diagon Alley.

There wasn't much that she could get for her son that she would be able to hide from his father. She had intended to take him for a meal somewhere, but then a new, shiny shop seemed to lunge out of the shadows.

It was a small, brightly decorated abode with little tables outside to sit at. The sign boasted _'Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour'._

"Ice cream!" Marius shouted excitedly, spotting the waiter through the glass, who was presenting a customer with a large sundae. "Mother, please can we go here?"

Violetta noted how small the parlour was. It was unlikely she would bump into anyone she knew here. "Of course," she decided, bustling her son into the shop. "But this is your birthday present—and you mustn't tell your father!"


	53. Distraction

\- Day 53 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Messy

\- The Emotion Challenge: Distracted

\- Potions Club - Scurvygrass: Write about being attracted to something or someone that has a negative influence.

\- Sirius/Regulus especially written for A Sirius Crush on Moony, I hope it's okay!

 **Author's Note:** This is a BLACKCEST piece. You have been warned. Please move on if this is not for you.

 **Pairings/Characters:** Sirius/Regulus

 **Word Count:** 391

* * *

 **Distraction**

 _Don't you breathe for me, undeserving of your sympathy, because there ain't no way that I'm sorry for what I did._

"Sirius," Regulus muttered, trying to ignore the way that Sirius's breath made his neck tingle. "Sirius, you're distracting me."

"I know," Sirius replied, winding an arm around Regulus's waist. "I'm trying to distract you. I want you to stop talking."

"But we _need_ to talk about this!" hissed Regulus, pushing his older brother away. Sirius lost balance on the edge of the bed where he had been laying, and crashed onto the floor. "Stop messing around."

"Things _are_ going to get messy if you don't stop being such a whiny little brat," Sirius snapped, jumping back onto the bed. Regulus scurried up towards the back of the bed before Sirius could advance upon him once again. "Oh, fine," Sirius groaned finally. "What is it?"

"Don't you see how wrong this is?" Regulus replied, his dark eyes wide with worry. "What are we doing?"

Sirius rubbed the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb. Regulus was right—things were wrong, but he couldn't help how he felt. Regulus and Sirius had been brought up with an unusual upbringing, and their parents hadn't exactly treated them right. They had sought solace within each other, and when their feelings had progressed into something more...they had just accepted it.

But Sirius knew, deep down, that one day it would have to end. They couldn't have a public relationship—no one would ever understand. They would ruin the name of the House of Black, and their mother would probably _murder_ the pair of them.

"What are we supposed to do?" he finally replied, after what seemed like hours of silence. "We can try to stop what we're doing, but we'll only end up being dragged together again." It was true. No matter how they tried to manage their relationship, this awkward flame would always be ignited between them.

Regulus sighed and looked at his hands. "I don't know."

"I do," Sirius said quickly. He reached forwards and tilted Regulus's chin upwards gently. "Let's run away. Somewhere far from here, where no one has to know _anything_ about us. Where we don't even have to acknowledge...what we are."

Regulus's eyes watered. "Really?" he whispered. Sirius cupped his brother's cheek gently, and smiled.

"Wherever you want."


	54. Start of a New Tradition

\- Day 54 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Spirit

\- The Emotion Challenge: Scared

\- Hogwarts Funfair/Hook-a-Duck: (plot point) Facing a Boggart

 **Pairings/Characters:** Elladora

 **Word Count:** 424

* * *

 **Start of a New Tradition**

 _...and dear Aunt Elladora...she started the family tradition of beheading house-elves when they got too old to carry tea trays._

Elladora had cringed inwardly when her mother had tasked her with getting rid of the old Boggart that was residing in a dressing table upstairs, in order to practise her corporeal Patronus. If there was one thing that she really didn't care much for, it was the unknown.

Elladora had never faced a Boggart before. For several months, she had heard the thing rattling around in her mother's dressing table, but she had no idea what it's true form was. Her father told her that no one knew the Boggart's true form, as it represented whatever the person in front of it feared the most.

That was enough for Elladora to have mixed feelings about practising her Patronus on the Boggart. She was fourteen years old now, and she still didn't really know what she was truly afraid of.

As she entered her mother's bedroom, she wondered whether it would manifest itself like a spirit. Her brother, Phineas, had never been very fond of ghosts, so perhaps _that_ was what she was truly afraid of. Advancing on the dressing table, she withdrew her wand, and reached out to unlatch it.

The dresser doors blew open, as though a powerful gust of wind was just waiting behind them. A plume of black smoke poured through the door and hovered in front of Elladora for a moment, as though it was contemplating her true fear.

"Ha!" Elladora laughed triumphantly. "I knew that I was afraid of nothing."

As she spoke, the plume of smoke began to manifest, causing the smile on her face to falter. She watched as it shrunk in height and width, forming an almost child-like figure. The head seemed to swell in comparison to the thin, gangly body, and it grew large, bat-like ears and huge, wide eyes.

"Would ma'am like some tea?" the House-Elf asked politely, staring up at Elladora with those unsightly, terrifying eyes.

She screamed instantly, a flood of realisation passing over her. Elladora had spent her entire life avoiding the family's servitude of House Elves, due to her incomprehensible fear of the tiny, human-like creatures.

" _Expecto Patronum!"_ she yelled out, focusing on a happy memory. _"Expecto Patronum!"_

In the end, it wasn't a memory that Elladora focused on, but instead, a wish. A wish of the future, where she would ensure that those horrible House Elves ended up with their heads on her wall.


	55. Chemical Disaster

\- Day 55 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Illusion

\- The Emotion Challenge: Insecure

\- Hogwarts Funfair/Hedge Maze - Right Turn: (plot point) Character uses Polyjuice Potion

\- Chocolate Frog Cards: (Bronze) Septimus Weasley - Write about a character luring a member of a Pureblood family into a relationship, when they themselves are not exactly relationship material for them (Half-blood, Muggle, Muggle-born, etc).

 **Pairings/Characters:** Andromeda/Ted

 **Word Count:** 767

* * *

 **Chemical Disaster**

 _We're a match made in heaven, if they're gonna talk let them, if they don't think we're good together, baby just forget them._

Ted carefully dropped the hair in the potion that he had spent the last month preparing. It was the hair of a wizard he'd spotted in Hogsmeade last weekend, and that wizard had seemed the perfect ideal of who he should be, if he wanted to win himself a date with Andromeda.

He knew he was playing a dangerous game, and that he couldn't hide under the illusion of Polyjuice Potion forever, but he'd made up his mind. He couldn't lie forever, but at least it would be a start. Andromeda, with her purest of pure blood, would never look at him twice, otherwise.

Taking one last look at his familiar reflection in the mirror, he ladled up a serving of the potion (which had turned a dark, glittery blue), and downed it in one, making sure not to cough up any of the odd-tasting substance.

The skin on his face began to bubble and pop in front of his eyes. His jaw widened, his height soared, his shoulders spreading. His thin, mouse-brown hair thickened and darkened until it was ebony black, and grew down to his chin. His face lined a little, and Ted began to worry—he'd not noticed how old the man he'd stolen the hair from had been when he'd done the deed. Hopefully, Andromeda wouldn't notice. The man couldn't be much older than thirty-five.

Puffing out his chest when the transformation was complete, he scurried out of the Hufflepuff Common Room and headed down to the secret tunnel to Hogsmeade which he, and only a few of his friends knew about. Luckily, no-one crossed paths with him and questioned who he was, and he managed to get into the town with no problems.

Things were going well so far—but that was as good as the day would get.

Ted found Andromeda in the Three Broomsticks almost immediately. Usually, he would be quite nervous about approaching her, but with his new appearance came a new found confidence. She was deeply engrossed in a book, her thick, dark brown hair hanging over her face, and there was a small on her face. Ted's heart fluttered.

"Well, hello there, gorgeous," he greeted, trying to deepen his voice. He sat down opposite her. "Can I buy you a drink."

Andromeda tore her eyes away from her book. A series of emotions passed across her face: confusion, recognition, and then confusion again. "Uncle Alphard?" she replied, closing her book. "What are you—why are you talking to me like that?"

Ted's mouth dropped open. _Uncle Alphard_. Of all the people he could have picked, how could he have made such a huge mistake?

"Uncle Alphard?" Andromeda questioned again, one eyebrow raised. "What's the matter?"

His mouth continued to open and close, and he knew he must look quite a lot like a goldfish. Finally, he threw his hands up in the air, and dropped the deep voice he had been trying so hard to impersonate. "No. No, it's not."

Both eyebrows soared up this time. _"Ted?_ Is that you?" When Ted nodded, she shook her head. "What are you doing impersonating my Uncle Alphard?"

He thought about lying, he really did. But with the way Andromeda was looking at him, he just couldn't keep lying to her. "I wanted to ask you out on a date. But I didn't think you'd go with me. So I snatched the hair off some Pureblood-looking guy last weekend, and used a Polyjuice Potion I'd been brewing to make myself look different. It wasn't supposed to be your uncle, I swear."

Andromeda was quiet for a moment, but then the corners of her mouth twitched. Within minutes, she was laughing uncontrollably, tears streaming down her face. When she composed herself, she cast her eyes on Ted, quite pitifully. "Why didn't you just _ask_ me out?"

Ted looked down at his fingers. "I guess I'm insecure about myself. Because I'm...a Mudblood."

The humoured expression on her face froze instantly, and she reached across the table to snatch his hand. "Don't call yourself that," she chastised him. "You're just a person. We've all got the same blood. You didn't need to go through all this," she gestured wildly with her free hand. "Just to ask me out. But I am flattered," she added, as an afterthought.

Ted smiled. "Shall we try again next week?"

"I'd love to." Andromeda paused. "But no Polyjuice Potion, this time."

"I wouldn't dream of it."


	56. Who Doesn't Like Quidditch?

\- Day 56 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Quidditch

\- The Emotion Challenge: Exhausted

 **Pairings/Characters:** Sirius, James

 **Word Count:** 268

* * *

" **Who Doesn't Like Quidditch?"**

 _Don't chase the Quaffle if you see the Snitch._

"If we're going to be friends, you're _going_ to have to learn how to play Quidditch," James told Sirius earnestly. They were in their first year of Hogwarts, and during the sunny Saturday afternoon, James had insisted on having a quick game of Quidditch with the rest of the first year Gryffindors. Seeing as no first years were allowed to be on the Quidditch team, James had to play while ever he had the chance.

He had been _mortified_ to learn that Sirius had never played Quidditch, and could count on one hand the amount of times he'd ridden his broomstick for fun. "It's just never interested me," Sirius muttered, shuffling around on the grass with his broom at his feet. They had spent all afternoon up in the air, and he was exhausted. "Can we go back up to the Common Room now?"

"Who doesn't like Quidditch?" James yelled. He grabbed Sirius's broom and examined the handle. "You have a really good make, too! My parents could afford a good broom, but they won't get me a decent one until I make the Quidditch team."

"Well have mine then," Sirius yawned, shoving his hands in his pockets. "My mum only got me that because she got Regulus one too."

James raised an eyebrow. "Does your brother fly?"

Sirius nodded. "He was flying before he could walk properly."

James sniggered and jabbed Sirius with the broomstick. "Well, I hope next year hurries up. At least I might be able to fly against one of you!"


	57. The Villain

\- Day 57 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Villain

\- The Emotion Challenge: Nauseous

 **Pairings/Characters:** Bellatrix, Sirius

 **Word Count:** 485

* * *

 **The Villain**

 _You're running after something that you'll never kill, if this is what you want then fire at will._

Sirius swallowed the lump in his throat as he buried his face into his pillow. He could hear his clock ticking on the bedside table. Any minute now, she would be here.

He _hated_ it when his cousins came over to stay. Bellatrix, Narcissa and Andromeda visited Grimmauld Place during the weekends of the summer holidays, as their parents would often go out together and leave Bellatrix in charge. Even though Bellatrix was now in her twenties and married, she still frequently came to Grimmauld Place at the weekends, much to Sirius's despair. He had hoped that once she married Rodolphus and moved out of their family home, her visits would become sparse.

But luck was not on his side, and this weekend as usual, Bellatrix had turned up on the doorstep with her sisters in tow. Narcissa had gone straight up to Regulus's bedroom to request his help on some of her summer homework, and Andromeda had tucked herself into a corner with a book, having no interest in speaking to anyone. Bellatrix, on the other hand, made herself acquainted with her position of villainous authority.

Sirius hated her. No, he _loathed_ her. He hated the way she stood by the breakfast bar, her slender, curvy frame swathed in swatches of black lace and leather. She would lean across, her dark eyes focused on Sirius as she took long drags of her cigarettes and blew out the smoke, her dark red lips forming a perfect 'o'.

The aura she projected made Sirius shiver, and he had rushed up to bed as soon as she was distracted. As he tossed and turned in his bed, a feeling of nausea washed over him. He could hear Regulus's gentle snores from the room next door, and he knew that Narcissa and Andromeda would be asleep now.

Footsteps began to advance up the stairs, and he felt sweat running down his forehead. He pulled the blankets over his head, in some childlike hope that doing so would keep the monster away from him. He breathed in the limited oxygen that was under the duvet, trying to calm his erratic heartbeat. He was sure that if he pulled the covers down and took in some fresh air, he would vomit all over the bed.

The floorboard outside his door creaked, and Sirius groaned inwardly. Bellatrix knew that the floorboard there was loose, but she still deliberately stood on it each time. It was as though she knew the fear she was inflicting upon Sirius.

He took one more deep breath as the door opened. There wasn't long left now, and he'd be able to leave this hellish place. He was terrified of her, but not just of her villainy.

He was terrified because of how much he enjoyed it.


	58. Bound Bride

\- Day 58 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Fire

\- The Emotion Challenge: Guilty

\- Hogwarts Funfair/Dunk Tank: Written for Anastasia, prompt used: Corpse Bride wedding vows.

 **Pairings/Characters:** Narcissa/James

 **Word Count:** 497

* * *

 **Bound Bride**

 _Touched by angels, though I fall out of grace, I did it all so maybe I'd live this every day._

The clearing in the middle of the Forbidden Forest where Narcissa and James sat was dark, as the night was fast approaching—but this was the only time of day that they could spend time together in solitude. Throughout the rest of their lives at Hogwarts, Narcissa was forced to remain amongst her fellow Slytherins for fear of being rejected from her Pureblood society, and James was expected to stick around the Marauders and his friends, as they just wouldn't understand his relationship to Narcissa. It was a secret they were both bound to keep.

"Narcissa, I wanted to ask you something," James said suddenly, after a few moments of peaceful silence. Narcissa enjoyed the moments of silence with James—sometimes they would talk for hours about everything that went on in their separate school lives, but other times they didn't need to say anything at all. Just sitting and listening to the other breathe was comforting enough.

Narcissa turned to look at James, absorbing his expression. There was a familiar, playful grin on his face, but his eyes were filled with a fire that she had only seen a handful of intimate, passionate times. "What is it?"

He stood up, pulling her to her feet. When she was stood, he knelt down on one knee, and took her hand, and she arched an eyebrow. "What on earth are you doing?"

"With this hand, I will lift your sorrows." He pressed a chaste kiss to Narcissa's knuckles, and her breath hitched in her throat. Not many people knew of the private wedding vows that members of the Black family spoke, so it meant a lot to her that James was choosing to say these words.

"Your cup will never be empty, for I will be your wine."

"James..."

He ignored her, and used his free hand to conjure a thin, cream coloured candle from thin air. The wick ignited instantly, and the reflection of the flame flickered behind his glasses. "With this candle, I will light your way into darkness." He let go of the candle, and it hovered in mid-air. Letting go of Narcissa's hand, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, velvet box. "With this ring, I ask you to be mine." He paused, catching his breath. "Narcissa Black, will you marry me?"

She took the beautiful ring from it's box; a beautiful, platinum band inset with black diamonds and dark sapphires. It was perfect.

"Yes," she whispered, and James threw himself at her, lifting her off the ground and spinning her in the air. She clutched the ring in her palm as James hugged her tightly, trying to swallow down the guilt that was welling up inside her.

Because it was a lie. No matter how much she loved James, there was no way she would be able to marry him.


	59. Victory

\- Day 59 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Victory

\- The Emotion Challenge: Enthusiastic

\- Hogwarts Funfair/Tombola: (plot point) Passing Notes

 **Pairings/Characters:** Andromeda, Rabastan

 **Word Count:** 437

* * *

 **Victory**

 _You remind me of a former love that I once knew and you carry a little piece with you_

Andromeda tried to drown out Slughorn's dull tones during her fifth period Potions lesson. She did like the subject, but she just hadn't been enjoying it as much since Slughorn had moved her away from Ted Tonks. Now, her Hufflepuff friend was sitting across the room from her at a different desk, all because Professor Slughorn deemed that the pair chatted too much for his liking.

Andromeda glowered at Slughorn. _Everyone_ in the class chatted during practical sessions, so she knew that it wasn't just to do with that. She had a suspicious feeling that her father, who was good friends with Slughorn, might have had something to do with it. Now she was sitting next to someone who she knew for a fact was deemed an appropriate match for her.

Rabastan Lestrange kept bumping her arm as he scribbled enthusiastically beside her. She pulled her elbows in, sighing irritably—and then suddenly he had slipped a small note in front of her. She glanced at his face, but he was looking stoically forwards, acting like he hadn't just done anything. She rolled her eyes and grabbed the note. _"Can I accompany you to Slughorn's Christmas Party?"_

Andromeda groaned inwardly. Of course she had been invited to that damn party—every other member of her family was _always_ invited. She had automatically assumed that Rabastan would have been invited along too, as his brother had attended in previous years. But apparently, Rabastan was only a shadow of Rodolphus. She dipped her quill into her in and wrote back a single word. _"Why?"_

The note came back almost instantly. _"My parents are big fans of his work, and they would not be happy if I wasn't invited to his parties."_

" _Are you sure this has nothing to do with the fact that our parents wish us to be married?"_ Andromeda wrote back. As Rabastan read the note, his lip curled and he shot her a look of contempt.

"Of course not," he hissed. Slughorn glanced over in their direction, but he made no comment.

"Fine," she said, crumpling the note up in her fist. "You can come with me." It wasn't like she would be able to attend with Ted, anyway. Her younger sister and cousins would all be present at the party, and she didn't want word getting back to her family that she had romantic feelings for a Muggleborn.

Rabastan shot her a small, victorious smirk, and she rolled her eyes again, turning her attention back to Slughorn.


	60. One Chance

\- Day 60 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Puzzle

\- The Emotion Challenge: Determined

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Sex and the City: (dialogue) "I'm good at crossword puzzles, I'm just not so good at people puzzles."

 **Pairings/Characters:** Callidora/Harfang

 **Word Count:** 270

* * *

 **One Chance**

 _Guess we could be more than friends, 'cause this kiss won't end, and you got me trembling._

"I wish you wouldn't try so hard, Longbottom," Callidora called to the Gryffindor boy who was rushing down the stairs after her. She smirked as the staircase that he was standing on suddenly jerked away from her, sending him over to a different doorway. "I told you, I don't wish to court with you."

There was a determined look in Harfang's eyes. "I disagree, Callidora," he called. "You know, there's no shame in admitting that you enjoy my company."

"Ha!" scoffed Callidora. The staircase swung back towards her, and Harfang stepped off quickly. She felt her insides melting a little as he stood in front of her; measuring at least a foot taller than her, with a head of dark, messy black hair. The grin on his face was mischievous, but the determination in his eye made her take him seriously.

"I see the way you look at me, Callidora. Please don't deny me any longer."

"And I've seen you in the Great Hall, doodling with your Muggle puzzles," Callidora snapped. "You are more interested in those silly games than you are in me."

"That's because I'm good at crossword puzzles," Harfang replied quietly. "I'm just not so good at people puzzles."

Callidora folded her arms. "You view me as a _puzzle?_ "

"You're the most puzzling creature in this world."

Callidora stared at him for a few moments, before relenting. "Okay, _Harfang,_ " she said, using his first name instead of Longbottom, how she usually addressed him. "I'll give you one chance."


	61. Sweets at Dawn

\- Day 61 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Dawn

\- The Emotion Challenge: Happy

\- Hogwarts Funfair/The Dunk Tank: Written for Ned - prompts used: (scenario) Proposal, (word) Idiot

 **Pairings/Characters:** Sirius/Remus

 **Word Count:** 324

* * *

 **Sweets at Dawn**

 _Now there's green light in my eyes, and my lover on my mind._

Remus blinked groggily as Sirius shook him awake. "What's the matter?" he groaned, spotting the clock on the wall behind him. It was five in the morning. What could possibly be so important that Sirius needed to wake him up at the crack of dawn for?

"I've got to show you something," Sirius whispered, still shaking his boyfriend by the shoulder. "Come to the balcony, quickly." Suddenly, Sirius retreated, leaving Remus staring into space.

Slowly, he clambered out of bed and shrugged his bathrobe around him. The bed remained unmade, as Remus had no doubt that he was going to jump back into bed as soon as Sirius had showed him whatever it was. He sighed blissfully—spending time at Sirius's family holiday home certainly had its benefits.

Remus plodded out onto the balcony, and was instantly blinded by the glare of the sunrise as it beamed over the horizon, directly opposite him. He covered his vision with his hand, and squinted down to where he could make Sirius's form out. He was kneeling by the balcony, holding something in his hand. "Sirius, what are you—"

"Willyoumarryme?" Sirius babbled. Remus raised an eyebrow.

"What? I didn't get that."

Sirius took a deep breath. "Remus, will you marry me?"

Remus let his eyes adjust to the bright morning light, and took the box out of Sirius's hand. He didn't know what he'd been expecting, but it certainly wasn't a ring-shaped, bright red sweet. "Are you serious?"

Sirius grinned. "As serious as my birth name." He reached out and grabbed the sweet, carefully pushing it onto Remus's ring finger. "Only, money is a little bit tight as of late. So the real ring will have to wait." He paused, eyeing Remus carefully. "So, what do you say?"

Remus threw his arms around Sirius's neck happily. "Of course I will, you idiot."


	62. Heart of the Ocean

\- Day 62 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Obsessive

\- The Emotion Challenge: Overwhelmed

\- Potions Club - Streeler: Write about someone leaving a trail of destruction behind them.

 **Pairings/Characters:** Bellatrix/Rodolphus

 **Word Count:** 401

* * *

 **Heart of the Ocean**

 _All my friends tell me I should move on, I'm lying in the ocean, singing your song._

There was no shortage of drama in Rodolphus's life since he met Bellatrix Black.

He'd always known that she was deranged. When he first spotted her on the platform in their first year, there was something about her glittering black eyes and her mop of wild, unruly black hair that piqued his interest. When he was Sorted into Slytherin after her, he was ecstatic—and not just because that was the house that was expected of him. It was because he would be able to be close to her.

As the years went on, he witnessed her destructive personality. She went through friends like a pebble through a flock of birds; constantly rushing into relationships and then breaking them down and destroying those in question when she grew fed up with them. Her words were sharp and cutting, yet silky and smooth at the same time.

She barely paid attention to Rodolphus until their sixth year, and when she finally noticed him, he felt overwhelmed. It scared him initially, as he had watched her for years—how had she been able to take him by surprise?

In front of their friends, Bellatrix was cold and distant to Rodolphus. But when they were alone, her nails raked down his back, leaving angry red welts on his skin and bruises on his neck. She made love to him obsessively, _passionately_ —and when it was over, Rodolphus was left physically aching for more.

His desire for her only amplified as time went on, and he craved her even more so when it became clear that her interest in him was waning. He saw Bellatrix like the ocean; constantly moving, constantly changing. He tried his best to keep her at his side, witnessing all that she continued to destroy.

He watched as Andromeda was crumbled beneath her and abjured from the household. He watched as she lessened Lucius to a quivering mess of a boy when he came to ask Narcissa's hand in marriage. He watched as she scoffed at her father when he suggested that she and Rodolphus hurry up an engagement.

And finally, he watched as she disposed of him. He begged and pleaded with her, but it was futile—her waves were shifting northwards towards the Dark Lord, so her heart wasn't with Rodolphus anymore.

Rodolphus wondered if it ever was.


	63. Walk of Life

\- Day 63 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Eternal

\- The Emotion Challenge: Optimistic

\- Potions Club - Shrivelfigs: Write about internal beauty.

 **Pairings/Characters:** Hesper, Eduardus, Phoebe

 **Word Count:** 421

* * *

 **Walk of Life**

 _You might wake up and notice you're someone you're not._

Hesper glowered at her younger sister, Phoebe, as she danced around the grand ballroom which their family frequented. She hated how _good_ Phoebe was at dancing—the young, slender girl had the grace of a floating feather; she was as light as air and she was completely at ease with the flexibility of her body. Mr. Black clapped happily as he watched his daughter dancing around the room. "Beautiful, Phoebe, simply beautiful."

Hesper had no amount of grace or beauty. Both sisters had hair the same shade, but Phoebe's chestnut curls were thick and vibrant, whereas Hesper's lank brown hair was thin, and never grew past her shoulders. Both sisters had deep, dark blue eyes, but Phoebe's were more of a sapphire glimmer, and Hesper's were dull and sad. Hesper was short and stocky, but Phoebe had legs up to her neck, and her hips were slender and her bosom ample.

Of course, Hesper was dreadfully jealous of Phoebe. It seemed like Phoebe already had everything, and now she was a perfect dancer, too. When Hesper had attempted to twirl around the ballroom in the hours prior, Mr. Black had curled his lip and told her that if she carried on the chandelier would fall down.

It had been enough to stunt Hesper's confidence for a good long while.

Her brother, Eduardus, came to sit beside her as they watched Phoebe. "I do not know why you worry so much, Hesper," he told her. He reached out and pushed a strand of hair from her face. "You are beautiful in your own way, and you have all of your own talents. You need not be so jealous of Phoebe."

"You don't understand, Eduardus," Hesper rebuffed, shrugging his hand away. " _I_ am Phoebe's older sister. _I_ should be the one bettering her, and teaching _her_ how to do things. But instead, she is better than me in all walks of life."

"You may yet learn to dance," Eduardus quipped with a small smile. Hesper rolled her eyes.

"Your eternal optimism does nothing to boost my spirits," she said. Eduardus laughed, and wrapped an arm around his sister.

"Hesper. Phoebe may have strengths where you do not, but you also have strengths that outweigh her. You are the most intelligent young witch that I know, and you can whip up a poison antidote quicker than anyone I know."

"That doesn't mean anything."

"Just have faith," Eduardus finalised. "Your time will come."


	64. Imposter

\- Day 64 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Blood

\- The Emotion Challenge: Hatred

\- Pocket Morty Competition: Evil Rabbit Morty - Write about someone who looks sweet but is secretly evil.

\- Hogwarts Funfair/Hedge Maze - Go Right: (dialogue) "I can't make this decision for you, you're the one who has to live with the consequences"

 **Pairings/Characters:** Sirius, Regulus

 **Word Count:** 926

* * *

 **Imposter**

 _We're hanging out with corpses, and driving in this hearse, someone save my soul tonight, please save my soul._

"Regulus?" Sirius called into the mouth of the ominous looking cave. He waited until the echoes of his call had finished ricocheting off the damp walls of the cave before venturing inside. "Regulus, I know you're in here."

It had been Barty Crouch Junior who had told Sirius of Regulus's plan. The younger boy always had been a bit of a sap, and it had been only too easy to get the information out of him. He knew that Regulus had been up to something private, even within the dark clutches of the Death Eaters. Only Barty had been the one to know of his secret mission—and it had seemed evident to Sirius, by the glistening hatred in Barty's brown eyes, that his friend hadn't been pleased with Regulus's choice.

Sirius froze in his steps as he heard a tinny, low wheezing sound. He pointed his wand ahead of him, beaming the wandlight in the face of his companion. He had to lower his wand a few feet, as the person in front of him wasn't a person at all, but a familiar creature. "Kreacher?" Sirius whispered. He observed the odd, yellow tinge to Kreacher's usually grey complexion, and the tiredness in his usually stony, judgemental eyes. Kreacher didn't seem to have the energy to offer Sirius a snarky greeting.

"Master Sirius," the House-Elf wheezed. "How long it's been."

"Did you come here with Regulus?" Sirius demanded to know. He was surprised as Kreacher suddenly threw himself at Sirius's legs, ragging at his jeans and staring up at Sirius with wild, crazy eyes.

"Master Sirius mustn't go in there," he gasped. "Not unless Master Sirius wishes to die a most painful death!"

Sirius leaned down and grabbed Kreacher by the shoulders, shaking him roughly. "Kreacher! Where is he?"

"Master Regulus drank the potion," Kreacher breathed heavily. "When Master fell down, he should have been dead. The creatures under the lake should have taken Master down, and they did—but then Master Regulus came back up!"

"So he's alive?"

Kreacher shook his head fiercely. "Master Regulus was _not_ Master Regulus," he said ambivalently. Sirius raised an eyebrow.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he snapped, shoving Kreacher out of the way. "Go back home, Kreacher—I'll bring Regulus back."

oOo

Sirius didn't need to use the rickety wooden boat to cross the lake—he could see Regulus sitting atop the central island, staring straight ahead solemnly. Sirius didn't understand why Kreacher had made such a fuss—Regulus looked perfectly normal.

Aside from the blood that stained his lips, and another red stain upon his left wrist, he looked fine. "Regulus," Sirius called quietly, recoiling in momentary shock at how loud his voice sounded within the cave.

And then, Sirius understood what Kreacher had been talking about. At the sound of Sirius's voice, Regulus jerked his head in the direction of his brother, and Sirius got a good look at his face.

The usually baby-faced Regulus looked gaunt and grey, and his black eyes looked almost red in the eerie light of the cave. His lips pulled back in a snarl, exposing stained teeth that seemed sharper than Sirius ever remembered. Something evil was dwelling within Sirius's baby brother - but he didn't know just what it was.

"Leave, Sirius," Regulus ordered coldly, in a voice so full of hatred that Sirius almost doubted he was speaking to his brother. Who was this evil imposter who had taken over Regulus? "If you don't, I will hurt you. I can't hurt you." His voice wavered a little at the final comment, but his façade of darkness returned almost immediately.

"What's going on, Reg," Sirius whispered. "What's happened to you?"

"I don't know!" Regulus screamed. His voice made the lake ripple and quiver - or that could have been the unknown creatures that lurked below the depths. "I went under, I should have _died_. But I came back up with a lust for blood, and this isn't satisfying the urge," Regulus held up his wrist, exposing the wound on his wrist, which looked oddly like a snake bite. "I can _smell_ your blood from here, Sirius. You need to leave."

"I'm not leaving you!" Sirius yelled. "You're my brother, for Merlin's sake!" He paused, taking a breath. "So, you're a vampire or something. There are vampires all over Britain. We can _deal_ with this, Regulus."

"You have to leave," Regulus repeated. "I can't make this decision for you. You're the one who has to live with the consequences, if I hurt you."

"Regulus."

"This is what I want!" snapped Regulus. "I want to remain in this cave, where the magic is still anchoring me. I was supposed to die under that water, and eventually I will die—from starvation. This is what has to happen."

"Regulus," Sirius repeated, feeling his eyes well up with tears. He couldn't lose his brother—his only brother. But as he met the hateful glare of Regulus, he knew that this man was no longer his brother. The real Regulus Black had died under that water. What had ventured back to the surface was just a cruel rendition. "I understand," he whispered hoarsely.

Regulus nodded solemnly, and sat back down on the island. As Sirius made to turn away, he called back out. "Sirius?"

"Yes?" Sirius replied in a choked voice. He didn't want to break down into tears, not here, not in front of him.

"I love you, Sirius."


	65. Snake Girl

\- Day 65 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Candy

\- The Emotion Challenge: Cowardly

 **Pairings/Characters:** Tom/Walburga

 **Word Count:** 238

* * *

 **Snake Girl**

 _Darling heart, I loved you from the start, but you'll never know what a fool I've been._

No woman ever made Tom Riddle feel so cowardly—not until he met Walburga Black.

She was a year below him at Hogwarts, and he hadn't noticed her until his seventh year. Frankly, there were other things on his mind besides girls—but it was hard not to ignore Walburga.

He bumped into her on the Hogwart's Express, on the way back to King's Cross when he had graduated. She was leaning against the sweet trolley, chewing on a candy snake. Tom felt slightly irritated when she didn't look at him straight away. When her eyes finally landed on him, not even the slightest flicker of emotion crossed her face.

The feeling of his stomach melting was something he'd never experienced before. She had her free hand on her hip, and her long, thick blonde hair was curling around her shoulders and chest. Her pink, pouty mouth chewed viciously on the candy, and Tom began to feel strangely nervous.

"Can I help you?" she asked. Her voice hit Tom like a barrage of needles—how could someone so cold be so _hot?_

"N-no," he replied, cursing himself for stuttering like a fool. He backed up into his compartment, shutting the door quickly.

But closing the door didn't stop Walburga continuing to stare through the glass, a devious smirk playing on her features.


	66. The Spork

\- Day 66 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Tongue-Tied

\- The Emotion Challenge: Confused

\- The Restricted Section Challenge: Shelf 3 - (restriction) write a story without using the word 'it'

\- Pocket Morty Competition: Spork Morty - Write about someone finding a spork for the first time

 **Pairings/Characters:** Walburga, Sirius, Regulus

 **Word Count:** 411

* * *

 **The Spork**

 _Ah, the combination of the world's two most dangerous objects, time and money_

Sirius pouted as he looked down at the plate of chicken salad that Walburga had presented. Their most recent House Elf was recently deceased, and little Kreacher was too young to serve up food just yet—so that job had been handed to Walburga whilst they waited for a suitable elf to come work for the family.

Unfortunately, Walburga wasn't gifted in the kitchen. Plain chicken and washed salad was as good as the family were going to get.

Regulus was scooping mouthfuls of salad down, holding a book in his free hand. Sirius didn't know whether he was actually enjoying the boring meal, or whether he was so immersed in his book that he wasn't actually tasting what he was putting in his mouth. Orion, on the other hand, looked less than happy about what had been served, but he was chewing through the lettuce leaves silently. He knew better than to aggravate his wife when she had sharp cutlery on hand.

"Sirius, stop sulking and eat your salad!" Walburga snapped, tapping a pointed black fingernail on the dinner table sharply. Sirius refrained the urge to roll his eyes and picked up his fork—no, his spoon.

"What the hell is this?" Sirius held up the object which he had thought was a fork, then a spoon, and now he was just confused. The silver piece of cutlery had the bowl of a spoon, but the tip was adorned with narrow spikes.

"A spork," Regulus muttered, not looking up from his book. Sirius stared over at the top of Regulus's head, which was all that was visible.

"A _what?"_ Sirius and Walburga both exclaimed at the same time. Sirius watched his mother observing her own spork, wondering if Regulus had gotten tongue-tied when telling Sirius what it was. "Stop talking nonsense, Regulus," Walburga added, though she spoke in a much more softer tone when addressing her younger son.

Regulus put his book down. "No, honestly. A cross between a fork and a spoon. Spork."

Walburga continued to glare at her youngest son, but she didn't object. However, when Sirius opened his mouth to counter Regulus, she spoke. "Sirius, you will eat that salad with your spork, or so help me God..."

As her voice tailed off, Sirius looked down at his spork, sniggering. "Spork," he muttered, rolling the word around in his mouth. What a stupid word.


	67. J'Adore

\- Day 67 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Butterflies

\- The Emotion Challenge: Cautious

\- The Funfair/Carousel: Car 2/Seat 4 - (dialogue) "I've seen better."

 **Pairings/Characters:** Regulus/Narcissa

 **Word Count:** 319

* * *

 **J'Adore**

 _Your soul is haunting me, and telling me, that everything is fine, but I wish I was dead._

Regulus was always cautious around his older cousin. There was something oddly unnerving about Narcissa. He wasn't sure if it was her dazzling good looks, combined with her icy personality, or whether it was just the way that she treated him. For as long as he could remember, Narcissa had always looked down on him, and treated him with an air of disdain that he was _sure_ wasn't acceptable.

However unacceptable he deemed it, Regulus still didn't mind. In fact, the way she glared at him whenever she and her sisters came around gave him butterflies. The little critters swarmed and bubbled around inside his stomach, causing him to act stupid and tongue-tied whenever he tried to speak to Narcissa.

"D-do you like my..." Regulus babbled as he entered the drawing room. Narcissa was sitting on a gilt-footed armchair like it was a throne, with Bellatrix and Andromeda lolling around on the floor at her feet. "I painted this for you," he garbled, thrusting a small canvas painting in her hands, which he had completed the day before.

It was a golden and blue watercolour of a silken-haired princess with wide, blue eyes. He hoped that Narcissa would see the resemblance. He watched cautiously as she rose an eyebrow and tossed the canvas onto the arm of the chair. "I've seen better," she replied nonchalantly. Bellatrix snickered cruelly, and Andromeda rolled her eyes.

Regulus backed off until he was in the kitchen, and he stood by the breakfast bar, sighing. Andromeda entered shortly after, giving him an apologetic look. "You know it will never work, Reg," she told him, coming over to stand beside him. "She's infatuated with that Malfoy bloke. Give it up while you've still got your heart."

"I just can't help it," Regulus sighed. "I adore her."


	68. The Baby in Brown

\- Day 68 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Quitting

\- Speed Drabble: knitting, card, "I want to do this properly."

\- The Emotion Challenge: Proud

 **Pairings/Characters:** Walburga, Orion

 **Word Count:** 359

* * *

 **The Baby in Brown**

 _The queen of peace always does her best to please, is it any use?_

Walburga clicked her tongue irritably as she focused on the tiny baby hat that she was knitting. Her eyes were almost crossed from the attention she paid to the minute pieces of wool as she wove the little hat carefully. She had dropped several stitches, and it was looking a little holey, but overall, Walburga felt quite proud. It was the first time she had ever knitted anything.

"Walburga darling, that is dreadful," a voice murmured from the doorway. Walburga glared up at her husband, and threw her knitting down on the coffee table. "Why don't you just _buy_ our new niece a nice little hat from Diagon Alley?"

"Did you finish making the card?" Walburga snapped. She was determined not to let Orion ruin her mood. She was proud of herself for making something from scratch. Normally, she didn't have even the slightest amount of patience, but she had sat and knitted that hat without quitting. It had taken _hours_.

Orion rolled his eyes expressively, and took a drink from the tumbler of whisky that he was holding. The ice clanked around in the glass, and Walburga felt her eye twitch. Everything had been so quiet before her irritating husband had arrived. So peaceful. "No, darling. It was a hot mess—I threw it away. We'll buy one next week."

"I want to do this properly!" shrieked Walburga suddenly, throwing her arms up in the air. "People _make_ things when new babies are born! It's _nice_ to have home-made gifts!"

Orion picked up the hat and turned it over in his hand, raising an eyebrow stiffly. "Sweetheart, you've knitted a baby girl a hat in brown and grey." He poked a finger through one of the larger holes. "What's this? For her ear?"

Walburga snatched the hat back. "These are Druella's favourite colours. Baby Bellatrix will look adorable in it."

"Baby Bellatrix in brown," Orion mused. "Yes, how lovely." He rolled his eyes once again, and slowly exited the room. Sometimes, it was better to let Walburga have her own way.


	69. The Peacock

\- Day 69 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Forget

\- Speed Drabble: "Why are you such a diva?", balloon, towel

\- The Emotion Challenge: Worried

\- The Weird Prompt Challenge: Lucius is a peacock animagus

 **Pairings/Characters:** Lucius/Narcissa

 **Word Count:** 419

* * *

 **The Peacock**

 _I pray one day I'll live to see you break a smile_

"Look Lucius," snapped eighteen-year-old Narcissa. She was looking thoroughly irritated with her soon-to-be husband; her eyes glaring at him like narrow blue slits, and her thin arms folded defensively across her chest. "I _know_ you can do it. Bella told me that she saw you practising when you were both in your last year of Hogwarts."

Narcissa had just exited the en-suite bathroom to her bedroom, and she was wrapped demurely in a fluffy white towel. Lucius was almost sweating with lust for his beautiful fiancée, who was practically dangling her sexuality in front of him—but he was also extremely worried. Narcissa had been nagging at him for almost a week since she found out about his little secret, and he knew that the woman wasn't afraid to use sex as a weapon. She would gladly deny him access to her boudoir if he didn't show her.

He resisted the urge to pout, and felt colour rising in his cheeks. "I don't want to," he muttered. "I think I might have forgotten how to do it."

"Why are you such a diva?" roared Narcissa, with a strange level of aggression that Lucius had never seen before—it certainly never reared its ugly head whenever they had been forced together for uncomfortable, Malfoy-and-Black family dinners. "You don't just forget your animagus form!"

"You will tell everyone," hissed Lucius, looking mortified. That was what he was most worried about—his reputation. His choice of animal had been a lavish one when he was a teenager, but now he had grown up, and seen the vicious, intimidating animals that they could transform into, he had begun to feel dreadfully stupid. "I don't want everyone to find out!"

Narcissa made a clicking sound with her teeth, and began to crawl across the bed towards him. He saw the towel drop slightly over her chest, and his breath hitched in his throat. "What do you think I'm going to do? Get a load of peacock-shaped balloons and let them off over your mansion?" she snorted, and Lucius shot her a glare.

"I thought you said you didn't know what my animagus form was? You said Bellatrix never told you what it was!"

Narcissa placed a hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles. "Sorry, sorry. I just wanted you to show me really bad," she leaned back on the bed, rolling her eyes. "Fine, Mr. Grumpy. You don't have to show me...yet."


	70. Along for the Ride

\- Day 70 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Moonlight

\- Written for A Sirius Crush on Moony for winning the Eurovision Competition 2016!

\- The Emotion Challenge: Homesick

\- Hogwarts Summer Funfair/Hedge Maze: Go Right: (word) Scared

 **Pairings/Characters:** Sirius/Regulus

 **Author's Note:** This is a BLACKCEST piece. You have been warned. Please move on if this is not for you.

 **Word Count:** 746

* * *

 **Along for the Ride**

 _I didn't really mind because I knew that it takes getting everything you ever wanted, and then losing it to know what true freedom is._

It was three in the morning when Sirius heard rustling on the other side of the bed canopy. He sat up bolt upright, knowing who would be on the other side of that curtain. Slowly, he pulled open the curtain, and his younger brother, glad in green pyjamas, blinked up at him. The moonlight was streaming through the window nearest to Sirius's bed, and it was shining an ethereal, milky light on Regulus's face.

"What are you doing here?" Sirius muttered groggily. He groaned as he remembered. "Sometimes I regret showing you the way to the Gryffindor common room. If anyone else catches you up here—"

"It's okay, I'm always quiet," Regulus whispered. As if in answer, a sudden, loud snore erupted from Peter's bed.

"What do you want, Reg?" Sirius murmured, rubbing his eyes.

"I had a nightmare."

"So you came all the way across the castle just to tell me?" Sirius rolled his eyes. "You're _fifteen_ now, Reg. You can't get scared of dreams and act like a kid."

Regulus nudged Sirius over and clambered into bed besides him. Sirius groaned, but he secretly didn't mind. A little company in his cold Gryffindor bed was always appreciated—but he wasn't going to openly admit that. He turned onto his side, waiting for Regulus to nestle down in the crook of his arm, like he used to do when he was just a little kid. Sirius closed his eyes, breathing in the smell of coconut shampoo in Regulus's hair. He always smelled so _good..._

"I just feel homesick," Regulus mumbled. Sirius couldn't see his brother all that well now that they were pressed together in the little bed, but he could tell that Regulus had his thumb in his mouth. Another childish habit that had followed him into adolescence. "It feels like forever since we were at home."

"Why on earth would you want to be at home?" Sirius whispered. He _hated_ being at home—their mother was a constant source of violence and anger. At least, she was to Sirius. She doted on Regulus, unsurprisingly. But surely Regulus didn't really enjoy it when Sirius was sobbing in his bedroom, covered with the evidence of Walburga's cruel curses and other methods of the torture she called 'punishment?' "It's horrible there. I love being at Hogwarts. It's the only time I can be free," Sirius paused. "It's the only time my bruises heal without her making fresh ones."

"You know why I want to be at home, Sirius," Regulus said so quietly that Sirius almost missed it. His voice was nothing but a warm breath, which he breathed carefully against Sirius's collarbone, sending a shudder through his body. "We don't get caught at home."

"We nearly do," Sirius murmured. "And we will _definitely_ get caught here, if you make a habit of it."

"I know. I'm sorry. I just had a nightmare."

"You said." Sirius reached out and combed a hand through Regulus's hair, enjoying the sensation of his silky tresses against his palm. "Who was it about this time?"

"Mother. She hurt you. She always hurts you. I _hate_ it when she hurts you." Regulus tipped his head suddenly, and Sirius could see down into his dark eyes. Dark, familiar eyes, which were almost a mirror of his. "It was worst when she hurt you and your eye was bruised." He leaned up and pressed a slight kiss to Sirius's left eye. "Or when she broke your cheekbone." A kiss landed tenderly on his cheek, which sometimes still ached to touch. "Or when she split your lip..." this time, the kiss was fuller, warmer; it landed squarely on Sirius's mouth.

Sirius closed his eyes, allowing himself to fall into Regulus's kiss. The younger boy probed his mouth passionately, _heatedly_ , stroking his bottom lip with his tongue and gasping into his mouth. "I love you," he breathed softly, and Sirius swallowed Regulus's words immediately.

"I love you too," he whispered back, feeling his eyes roll into the back of his head as Regulus's hands began to push up the front of Sirius's shirt.

oOo

By morning, he would be gone. Nothing but a trace of coconut shampoo in the air, and a familiar dent in the pillow beside Sirius. But he didn't mind. Soon, they would be home again.


	71. Walburga's Wrath

\- Day 71 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Monster

\- The Emotion Challenge: Tense

\- Speed Drabble: breaking, powerless, "I just want to eat my lunch in peace."

 **Pairings/Characters:** Walburga/Orion

 **Word Count:** 378

* * *

 **Walburga's Wrath**

 _I conduct fear like electricity, a man made monstrosity._

Orion cursed inwardly as he heard the sound of something breaking overhead. It was late in the afternoon, but the unmistakable sound of glass shattering could only mean one thing—Walburga was finally awake, and she was on her way downstairs to torment him.

It wasn't that he didn't like his cousin; he did—he just sometimes wished she was a little less full on. Walburga was a whirling monster of a tornado, hellbent on destruction from her waking moment. She found the most joy in causing pain and suffering to her peers, and even though most of the time her methods of torment were only minor occurrences, she still riveted from her actions.

Orion would never admit it to her, but he secretly enjoyed those traits about her.

However, he tensed up upon hearing Walburga today. He had had a tiring evening, and the last thing he wanted was to deal with Walburga's wrath today. He had a plate of cucumber sandwiches in front of him, and he knew that they would be the first thing she noticed.

"Or-i-on," she sang as she whirled into the dining room, and his shoulders stiffened at the sound of her voice. "Good morning."

"Good afternoon, more like," Orion grumbled through a mouthful of cucumber and bread. "It's nearly three."

"I had a terribly late evening," she commented with a knowing smile. Orion resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He had engaged in just the same late evening, as Walburga had sneaked into his bedroom during the night—but somehow, he had managed to crawl out of bed at a reasonable time. Her eyes landed on the plate of sandwiches, and she grabbed one.

"Hey—I just want to eat my lunch in peace," Orion snapped, but he fell short when Walburga flashed her dark, glittering eyes at him. He was always powerless when she gave him that look. "Fine," he muttered. "Just get it over with."

"Aw, Orion," she sniggered, throwing the sandwich across the table in his direction. "You're so tense; so nervous." She paused to stand up, and leaned across the table, so that her cleavage was exposed. His breath hitched in his throat. "You need to relax a little."


	72. Attic Dweller

\- Day 72 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Dust

\- The Emotion Challenge: Shocked

\- Chocolate Frog Cards Club: (silver) Ghoul: Challenge: Incorporate a ghoul into your story.

 **Pairings/Characters:** Ursula, Belvina

 **Word Count:** 521

* * *

 **Attic Dweller**

 _Here in my web of dreams, my whispers turn to screams._

Belvina Black held her arms over her head as a shower of dust rained down upon her and her mother. Ursula didn't seem too fazed by the dust, as she continued beating on the ceiling with the handle of her sweeping broom, causing all manner of cobwebs and dirt to fall from the beams. "Mother, I dare say this is having no effect."

"I will get that awful creature out of your father's house, girl," Ursula snapped back. Her white hair sprinkled with grey as she gave a particularly heavy-handed shove to the ceiling. She reared back and wiped her perspiring forehead on her sleeve. "Phineas will not be happy when he returns from Hogwarts this weekend, oh no," Ursula clucked her tongue. While her husband, Phineas Nigellus, spent his weeks at Hogwarts where he acted as headmaster, he expected Ursula to maintain the housework.

When Belvina became old enough to carry a dusting cloth, she was expected to follow in her mother's footsteps. When all of her brothers went off to Hogwarts with Phineas to learn, Belvina was not allowed to attend. "Young ladies do not need an education, dear," her father had sneered patronisingly when Belvina had dared to follow up on why she didn't receive a Hogwart's letter. She knew that other girls were receiving their letters, but because her father was the headmaster, he was able to prevent one from reaching her.

Ursula had taught Belvina all the spells and potions that she needed to know, but they mostly revolved around cooking and cleaning. She reached fifteen with no defensive or combative spells under her belt, and now she was faced with a potentially life-threatening creature in the attic.

"What on earth are we going to do?" Belvina cried as she heard the ghoul wailing. Ursula hollered back at it rudely, but it didn't seem to listen.

"You're going to have to pop your head up into the attic and take a look at it, Belvina," Ursula demanded. "Lure it towards the entrance and I shall curse it."

"I don't want to go up there!" Belvina whined, but Ursula wasn't giving her any other choice. Grumbling, she advanced up the ladder, hitching her skirts around her ankles. She took a deep breath and opened the trapdoor, lighting her wand into the dim attic.

Almost immediately, a human-shaped figure lurched towards the source of the light. As soon as its face was illuminated, Belivina let out a cry of shock—the ghoul was horrifying; an ugly, grey-skinned creature with wispy white hair and a single yellow tooth in its gaping mouth. It moaned and threw something in Belvina's direction, but she skidded down the ladder instantly, allowing the trapdoor to fall shut.

"Stupid girl!" accused Ursula, while Belvina caught her breath at the bottom of the ladder. She was still shocked, and her heart was beating loud enough to thrum in her ears. She stood up, throwing a glare at her mother, and headed downstairs.

She wasn't about to confront that ugly thing again—or the ghoul.


	73. Ruffled Feathers

\- Day 73 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Owl

\- The Emotion Challenge: Angry

\- Defense Against the Dark Arts Class - Episkey: Write about a minor issue in a relationship. A difference of opinions, or a minor fight, for example. It can not be a major problem like problem must be fixed by the end of the story. / Prompt used: (word) fist

 **Pairings/Characters:** Callidora/Harfang

 **Word Count:** 653

* * *

 **Ruffled Feathers**

 _I tried so hard to act nice like a lady, you taught me that it was good to be crazy._

"Longbottom!" shrieked Callidora as she rocketed through the house at breakneck speed. Harfang rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed, looking away from his work. His girlfriend only addressed him by his surname when she was exceptionally angry with him. "Where are you?!"

"In the dining room, darling," Harfang replied, sarcastically drawling out the endearment. He pushed the parchment away, wondering how long this was going to take. His younger sister had sent him her Herbology homework from Hogwarts by post, asking for his opinion on her essay. Herbology had always been high on his list of interests.

Callidora burst through the doors of the dining room, glaring at him angrily. She was clenching her fist, and Harfang could see a scrunched up envelope in her palm. "You used Willow again, didn't you?"

Harfang groaned. Willow was Callidora's snow white owl, a gift from her mother, and Harfang was under absolutely no obligation to use her. _No-one_ was allowed to touch Willow, and Harfang abided by those rules. It simply wasn't worth Callidora's wrath. "No, Calli," he replied. "I wouldn't use your owl, and I never have done."

"Well, where is she?" Callidora shrieked. "I need to post this to Mother!" she threw the balled up letter at Harfang, and it bounced off the side of his head before landing on the floor. Her flashing eyes landed on the Herbology essay in front of him. "How was that delivered?" she demanded to know.

"A Hogwarts owl. About ten inches tall, a little on the hefty side, with grey and black feathers. Nothing like wondrous Willow."

"Don't get smart with me, Longbottom!" Callidora hissed.

"I didn't use your stupid owl, okay?" he snapped. This wasn't the first time that they had engaged in this exact same argument, and frankly, Harfang was fed up of it. He did everything right within his relationship, he listened to all of Callidora's extensive, well laid-out rules. 'Don't use Willow' was at the top of that list, and Harfang always respected that wish, just like he respected _all_ of his girlfriend's wishes.

More often than not, he found himself wishing he hadn't gotten himself involved with a member of the Black family. The women of that family were renowned for their tempers, and Harfang was more than paying for his choice in women.

"Well where is she?"

A sudden, familiar screeching sounded from just outside the window. Harfang stood up from his seat and unlatched the window, staring out into the darkness. A little way away, coming in from the distance, he could see a bright, opal-coloured speck flying towards him.

Willow hopped through the open window a few moments later, landing daintily on the table and messing up Harfang's papers. She dropped a dead mouse on the table, ruffled her feathers and clucked her beak impatiently at Callidora, clearly expecting a treat for her hard work.

Callidora's face softened, and she stroked Willow's feathers with her forefinger gently.

"I suppose you forgot to shut the door to the barn again, perhaps?" Harfang asked, nodding to the mouse. Willow never hunted for food when she was delivering a letter, so she had clearly gone out on her own accord.

Callidora pursed her lips, and shoved Harfang playfully. "No," she muttered, avoiding eye contact. "She must have slipped out when you went down to get that essay."

Harfang rolled his eyes and laughed, before pulling Callidora onto his lap and pressing a kiss to her temple. Even though Harfang could distinctly remember latching the barn door on his way out, he knew that Callidora would never admit that she was wrong.

And her stubbornness was just one of the things he loved most about her, even if it did grind on his nerves from time to time.


	74. Threat of Love

\- Day 74 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Loved

\- The Emotion Challenge: Paranoid

\- The Investment Building Challenge/Dialogue Property: "What sort of potion is that?"

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Scream: "You have a dark mind." / "You have no idea."

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/How I Met Your Mother: (object) a glass of white wine

 **Pairings/Characters:** Walburga/Orion

 **Word Count:** 601

* * *

 **Threat of Love**

 _We all look for heaven and we put our love first, something that we'd die for, it's our curse._

It was the middle of the night, but somehow, Orion had found himself sitting bolt-upright in bed. The reason being that he was currently _alone_ in his bed, and his wife was missing.

Now, perhaps he was just being paranoid, but Orion was sure he could smell the distinct, burning aroma of their rusty family cauldron being heated up. He couldn't understand why on earth someone would be brewing a potion in the dead of the night, but he wasn't about to just go back to sleep. If his wife was creating secret potions, he wanted to know what they were and why.

So he slipped quietly out of bed, wrapped a bathrobe around himself, and crept down the stairs, being careful not to tread on any of the creaky floorboards along the way. Walburga often forgot that she wasn't the only one who had grown up within the Black family houses, and Orion knew how to sneak around the old buildings just as well as she did.

He advanced upon the kitchen, and saw her hovering over the cauldron at the other side of the room. Luckily, she had her back to him, but Orion took note of the glass of white wine which was perched within reach on the counter. The almost-empty bottle wasn't far away. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, hoping his wife wasn't drunk.

He had no idea what potion was brewing in the potion, but he could see suspicious pink bubbles rising from the cauldron and popping on the ceiling. The smell was hard for him to put a name to, but he knew it was sickeningly sweet.

"What kind of potion is that?" he asked suddenly, causing Walburga to flinch so hard that she dropped her glass of wine. The glass shattered on the ground, and she pursed her lips at Orion, before waving her wand to clear up the mess.

"None of your business, Orion," she snapped dismissively. "Go back to bed."

Orion folded his arms. "Explain yourself," he demanded. "You sneak around in the dead of the night - why couldn't making this potion have waited until tomorrow?"

"Because…" Walburga seemed to wrack her brain for an appropriate lie, before flailing her hands in defeat. "Because I didn't want you to know about it, okay?"

"What is it, Walburga?"

"A love potion."

Orion's eyes widened. "Why on earth—"

"You loved me once," Walburga interrupted. "But then we had children, and it faded away. This will make you love me again."

"You idiot woman," scoffed Orion, trying to smother a laugh. "Of course I love you. I love you more than words can say."

Walburga pouted, leaning back against the cauldron. "I don't know if I believe you."

"So, you were just going to sneak a love potion into my morning coffee?"

"Something like that."

Orion shook his head, and withdrew his wand from his pocket. With a sharp, angled wave, the cauldron was emptied. Walburga opened her mouth to protest, but she decided not to speak. "You have a dark mind."

"You have no idea," Walburga replied with a sigh. "Are you _sure_ you still love me?"

"Why would you think otherwise?"

"Because I'm neurotic, and loud," Walburga murmured, looking at her feet. "I shout at all of you. I scream, I get angry—venomously angry—"

"—and I love you for all of those traits," whispered Orion, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Now, lets go back to bed."


	75. Our New Beginning

\- Day 75 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Discipline

\- The Emotion Challenge: Agitated

\- Music History Class Assignment #1: Write about a beginning.

\- The Investment Building Challenge/Dialogue Property: "That's hardly my fault."

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank/CSI New York: (time of day) Sunrise, (feeling) Sadness, (colour) White

 **Pairings/Characters:** Lucretia/Ignatius

 **Word Count:** 1,056

 **Our New Beginning**

 _It's you, it's you, it's all for you, everything I do._

Ignatius ducked as his wife threw the small white stick in his direction. It his the wall viciously, and cracked open. He wandered over to it, picking it up.

"Negative." He muttered, throwing the pregnancy test back on the floor. "Again." He sighed, defeated, and walked over to the window with his hands in his pockets, looking out at the sunrise. They had woken up at the crack of dawn in order to get Lucretia's "most concentrated urine", according to the Fertility Healer who was working with them.

"That's hardly my fault!" snapped Lucretia, throwing her mop of dark brown curls over her shoulder.

"I didn't say it was!" Ignatius sat on the edge of the bed, pulling Lucretia over to him. She struggled against his embrace, clearly still agitated about the test results. "This is a marathon, not a sprint—"

"—yeah, yeah, I heard it all when the healer said it." Lucretia's voice pitched suddenly, and Ignatius realised she had started to cry. She nuzzled against him, her tears soaking through his nightshirt.

Ignatius pressed a kiss to her forehead. "It'll happen," he whispered. "I promise. It just takes time. And discipline."

oOo

"Negative _again!_ " screeched Lucretia three months later, hurling another pregnancy test in Ignatius's direction. "Why is this happening to us? Why is this happening to _me?_ What's wrong with me, Ignatius?"

There was no real anger this time, just overwhelming sadness. Ignatius was feeling it too. He and Lucretia were ageing to the better end of thirty. All of the women in Lucretia's family had children in their twenties, sometimes earlier, and she had wanted to be a part of that age range when she had her first child.

It seemed as though life was getting in the way.

"I haven't menstruated in five months," she whispered, her face glowing. She never normally discussed such things with Ignatius, even though he wasn't prudish. It was Lucretia who was embarrassed about her bodily functions; she always had been. "What if there's something seriously wrong with me, Ignatius? What if I can't have a baby?"

"Of course that isn't true," Ignatius replied. His voice was determined, but inwardly, his resonance was starting to waver. _What if?_

"We should make an appointment with the Healer."

Ignatius nodded. He was willing to do anything to ensure that his wife became pregnant - it was all she had ever wanted, for the whole time he had known her. A _family._

oOo

"Pop on the table, Lucretia," Healer Janice said brightly. "Pull up your shirt, and we'll take a look at your uterus and ovaries."

"My what?" Lucretia sounded alarmed. She looked at Ignatius fearfully.

"There's nothing to be worried about, dear. We just need to perform a check on your reproductive organs to ensure there are no cysts or anything malignant."

"Malignant?" Lucretia was horrified. _"Malignant?_ Is that a tumour? Are you saying I have a tumour?" she sounded hysterical, and Ignatius quickly jumped to attempt to calm her down.

"It's probably best if you don't mention anything else," Ignatius said to the Healer hastily. "Let's just get this over with, Lucretia. Get up on the table, girl."

Hesitantly, Lucretia climbed on the Healer's table and lay flat on her back, carefully pulling her shirt up. She was terrified. What if the Healer found something awful and—what was that word? _Malignant?_ What if something _malignant_ was found inside her, preventing her from having a baby?

Would they be able to fix it? Would the Healer be able to get rid of it, so that she and Ignatius could finally start a family?

Lucretia shuddered as the Healer spread a thick, cold, gooey substance over her bare stomach. She waved her wand once, silently, and then placed both of her gloved hands either side of Lucretia's belly, and peered towards her navel.

"Everything looks fine...there's the left ovary, and the right...wait, what's this." She paused, peering a little closer. "…ah, wait a second…" she kneaded her hands into Lucretia's stomach as she navigated her way around.

"Oh, Merlin," murmured Lucretia, feeling her eyes welling up with tears. "What is it? Is it malignant? Tell me, I'm going to have a breakdown! Oh, no, please get it out of me!"

"Mrs. Prewett, please calm yourself down," the Healer removed her hands from Lucretia's stomach, and hoisted her up into a sitting position. "Now, did you say that you had done a pregnancy test?"

"Several," Lucretia whispered. Ignatius nodded in agreement.

"Well dear, I hate to be the one to break it to you…but it seems all of those pregnancy tests were false. You're pregnant!"

Lucretia stared at the Healer, her eyes wide. Ignatius cleared his throat, and the Healer looked in his direction.

"Is this a joke? Because if so, it is in _very_ bad taste. This ordeal has been highly traumatic for my wife and I, and—"

"—Mr. Prewett," interrupted Healer Janice. "I assure you, this is not a joke. You are around five months pregnant. And…" she loomed forward towards Lucretia's stomach again. "I would take a fairly certain guess that you're having a boy."

"A boy!" shrieked Lucretia and Ignatius in union. They both jumped to their feet, embracing each other jovially, whilst Janice laughed. "We're having a boy…" whispered Lucretia. She clasped her hands around her stomach protectively.

"Yes you are, and I'm so happy to be the one who got to break the good news to you."

"Lucretia," Ignatius murmured, pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead. "Everything is going to be okay now. This is our new start. This baby is our new beginning. We can put all that anger and upset behind us."

Lucretia nodded happily. "Our new beginning."


	76. Age of Innocence

\- Day 76 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Age

\- The Emotion Challenge: Humiliated

\- HPFC Royalty Competition / Prompt: (word) Immature

\- Weekly Pairings Drabble Competition/Week 10: Barty/Regulus

\- September Back To School Event: (action) Catching someone/being discovered smoking cigarettes in a bathroom, (object) Schoolbag

 **Pairings/Characters:** Barty/Regulus

 **Word Count:** 436

* * *

 **Age of Innocence**

 _When I grow up I want to be nothing at all._

Regulus's nose prickled as the suspicious scent of smoke wafted up his nostrils. He followed the smell towards the girls bathroom on the first floor. "Hello?" he called through the door, hearing his voice bouncing around the tiled room. "Is there something burning in here?"

A familiar cackling echoed from within, and a ghostly figure streamed through the door. Moaning Myrtle, her glasses looking peculiarly misty, laughed in Regulus's face. "Oh, he's going to be in dreadful trouble," she said gleefully. "I've already told Peeves what he's doing in here. There'll be a teacher here in no time."

"Who's in there?" Regulus demanded to know, but Myrtle was already floating back through the door.

Taking a breath and hoping he wasn't about to stumble in on a girl, Regulus pushed the door open. The smoke came from the opposite end of the bathroom, in the very last stall. When he reached that cubicle, the door was open, and a familiar boy was perched on the closed lid of the toilet.

"Barty?" Regulus gasped. "What on earth are you doing?"

Barty Crouch was immersed in a book, though he had a packet of cigarettes on his knee and one of the offending items between his lips. At the sight of Regulus, he threw the cigarette to the floor and stamped it out quickly. His face glowed red with humiliation. "Regulus," he muttered, stuffing the packet into his schoolbag. "What are you doing here?"

"I was looking for you," muttered Regulus, rolling his eyes. "Smoking in a girl's bathroom? Are you that immature? Really Barty, when are you going to start acting your age?"

"No one knows, jeesh," Barty mumbled, standing up from his seat on the toilet. A rumble of girlish laughter sounded from the cubicle next door. "Besides Myrtle. But she's just a ghost."

There was a sudden, dead silence, right before Myrtle's head burst through the wall of the cubicle. "JUST A GHOST?" Myrtle screamed, her glasses now entirely fogged over, making it impossible to see her eyes. "OF COURSE, MYRTLE IS JUST A GHOST! THE GHOST WON'T TELL ON THE STUPID LITTLE BOY STINKING MY BATHROOM OUT WITH SMOKE!"

"Barty, we should go," Regulus whispered hastily.

"JUST A GHOST! JUST A GHOST!" bleated Myrtle over and over again, though she was more just shouting in general now rather than directing her anger at Barty. Barty nodded to Regulus, and the two boys quickly escaped the bathroom.

He knew he wouldn't be returning to this bathroom to smoke any time soon.


	77. For Want of a Child

\- Day 77 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Family

\- The Emotion Challenge: Excited

\- Weekly Pairings Drabble Competition/Week 10: Rodolphus/Bellatrix

\- September Back To School Event: (emotion) Excited, (word) Breakfast

 **Pairings/Characters:** Rodolphus/Bellatrix

 **Word Count:** 438

* * *

 **For Want of a Child**

 _You should never come between a woman and her dream, and a man who never knew his place._

Bellatrix flushed the toilet, staring down at the bowl as the swirling mess of her breakfast spiralled into the drainage. It was the third time this week that she had thrown up whatever she had eaten within the last three hours, and it was becoming _extremely_ annoying.

She looked at the sink, where a small, plastic stick sat, taunting her. It had been embarrassing enough having to walk into the Muggle drugstore to purchase such an item, especially when she had no clue what she was looking for. Of course, there were spells that could determine whether or not she was pregnant, but Bellatrix was only sixteen. They didn't teach spells like that at Hogwarts just yet, and there was no way she was going to ask her mother for help.

Druella would be overcome with excitement at the idea of another ratty little child joining the family. Bellatrix had no desire to have or keep a child. If she was with child, she would deal with it later—but there was no way she would spend her life rearing children, like her mother had.

She had bigger plans than that.

"Bella, where did you put my—" before Bellatrix could stop him, Rodolphus burst through the bathroom door. His eyes landed immediately on the pregnancy test, and Bellatrix snatched it out of his view, glaring at him. "What's that?"

"What do you think you are doing, barging into a bathroom when it's engaged?" she yelled, standing up to face him. That turned out to be a mistake, as the sudden movement sent a surge of nausea straight to her stomach. The colour drained from her face, and she turned to bend over the toilet, puking up bile into the bowl. Rodolphus jumped towards her, pulling her hair out of her face. He patted her on the back sympathetically. When she was done, she threw him away from her, and sat down on the closed lid of the toilet. There was a sickening look of excitement on Rodolphus's face.

"Bellatrix…are we going to have a family?" he whispered. "Are you excited? This is brilliant!"

"This is not brilliant!" roared Bellatrix, throwing the pregnancy test at him. "And I haven't even done the damned thing yet! So calm yourself down and get out of my face!"

Obediently, Rodolphus nodded, murmuring something about coming to see her later on. Once he had shut the door on her, Bellatrix leaned back against the wall.

What was she going to do?


	78. Remedial Potions

\- Day 78 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Honesty

\- The Emotion Challenge: Grateful

\- September Back To School Event: (word) Clueless, (dialogue) "Where should I sit?" / "Sit next to the [boy/girl] you think is the cutest."

 **Pairings/Characters:** Andromeda/Ted

 **Word Count:** 320

* * *

 **Remedial Potions**

 _This was no accident, this was a therapeutic chain of events._

Andromeda paused as she stood outside the classroom for her remedial Potions class. It was embarrassing that she had to be here, but her father had insisted she take the extra class to ensure that she got her sub-par A grade up to at least an Exceeds Expectations. Taking a breath, she pushed open the door.

The class and the teacher lapsed into sudden silence as they stared over at her. "Can I help you?" the teacher asked coldly. Andromeda shuffled over to his desk, placing the piece of parchment on his table which granted her access to the remedial class. "I see," the teacher sneered, putting a hand on her hip. "Miss Black has been sent from her normal Potions class to this one. Mid-lesson as well—how irritating."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know that I would be moving class until today."

"No harm done," the teacher continued. "Take a seat, please. You're holding up my lesson." Andromeda stood awkwardly, looking out at the desks. "Don't look so clueless!" the teacher snapped.

"Where should I sit?" Andromeda asked, feeling her face glowing. The teacher smirked.

"Sit next to the boy you think is the cutest. And I expect you to be honest—I'll know if you're lying."

Andromeda's face was burning by this point. Several of the students were tittering and whispering between themselves, wondering where she was going to sit.

Finally, her eyes landed on a sandy-haired boy on the Hufflepuff side of the class, sitting alone by the window. He grinned cheekily at her when their eyes met, and Andromeda knew where she was going to sit. She marched through the desks and threw her bag down next to him, before taking her seat.

"I'm sure Mr Tonks is grateful for your honesty," the teacher drawled. "It looks like Remedial Potions is making connections once again."


	79. In the Courtyard

\- Day 79 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Proud

\- The Emotion Challenge: Amused

\- September Back To School Event: (object) Striped Scarf, (action) Asking someone to a school dance/participating in the school dance

 **Pairings/Characters:** Lucius/Narcissa

 **Word Count:** 281

* * *

 **In The Courtyard**

 _If you want me, you had better find a way to show me._

"Narcissa!" a familiar voice called from behind her as she walked through the snowy courtyard. "Narcissa, wait!"

She smirked in amusement, but changed her expression to one of annoyance as she turned around to face Lucius. "Yes?" she asked blandly, raising a thin, blonde eyebrow. "Is there something I can help you with, Lucius?"

Lucius was wrapped up in a thick cloak and his striped scarf, which was bundled up around his ears. "Aren't you cold?" he asked, gesturing to Narcissa's lack of winter clothing. She shrugged.

"I'm only crossing the courtyard. Though, if you keep me any longer, I may start to freeze," she sneered. Lucius reached for his scarf, with the intention of giving it to Narcissa to wrap herself up with, but she was far too proud. She curled her lip at his offer, shaking her head. "Lucius, what do you need me for?"

Lucius scratched the back of his pale head nervously. "The Christmas dance is happening in the next few weeks."

"I am aware."

"I was just wondering…"

Narcissa rolled her eyes expressively.

"Would you like to go to the dance with me?"

Narcissa smirked, amused. "Rabastan has already requested that I accompany him."

Lucius looked crestfallen. "Oh," he replied. "Well, no matter. There will be more dances."

"Wait, I'm not finished," Narcissa continued. "I'd much rather _not_ attend the dance with Rabastan. So, yes. I'll go with you."

Lucius's face split into a grin. Even though he was certainly going to recieve the backlash from Rabastan when he found out he no longer had a date, he didn't care.


	80. James's Quaffles

\- Day 80 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Machine

\- The Emotion Challenge: Offended

\- September Back To School Event: (dialogue) "I shouldn't be doing any activity where balls fly at my face." / "Well, there goes your social life.", (location) Quidditch Pitch

 **Pairings/Characters:** Sirius, James, Narcissa

 **Word Count:** 388

* * *

 **James's Quaffles**

 _I'm so crazy, baby, I'm sorry that I'm misbehaving._

"It's great," James was saying to Sirius, as they headed over the Quidditch Pitch to the centre of the field, clutching their brooms. Narcissa Black was standing besides a large, black contraption, tapping it with her wnad. "Hey!" James yelled. "Get away from that!"

"I was just wondering what it was," Narcissa replied smoothly. "Seeing as it's in my way."

"Narcissa, it wasn't in your way," muttered Sirius. He knew better than to argue with his cousins, but James had been so excited about showing him this machine that he had built. "I've never seen you on this Quidditch pitch the whole time I've been at Hogwarts."

Narcissa shrugged. "Tell me what it is, and I'll go."

James grinned. "Well, Remus and I have developed this machine to assist us with Quidditch practice," he replied. "This box here," he slapped the box proudly. "Is enchanted with an undetectable expansion charm. It currently holds about three-hundred Quaffles." He gestured to the front of the box, where a round, Quaffle-shaped hole was cut. "While we're stationed in front of the goalposts, this machine will fire Quaffles at us so that we can try to Keep them. Like penalty scores."

Sirius looked confused. "What's a penalty score?"

James waved a hand dismissively. "It doesn't matter, it's some Muggle foot ball thing. I just thought his would be fun."

"Hey, do you think you could trigger it to fire out the Quaffles really fast? We could stick Wormtail up there and just launch them at him," Sirius offered. James sniggered, but he was looking at Narcissa.

"So, Cissy," he said. "How about you give it a go?" he held his broomstick towards her, but she folded her arms and stuck her nose in the air.

"I don't think so. I shouldn't be doing any activity where balls fly at my face."

"Well, that's a shame," continued James. "There goes your social life."

Narcissa's face suddenly glowed crimson, and she glared at Sirius, offended. "Your mother will hear about this!" she hissed, while Sirius clutched his stomach, doubled over with laughter.

"I didn't even say anything!" he wheezed after Narcissa, but it was too late—she was already heading back to the castle.

Whether she told his mother or not—it was worth it.


	81. Gasoline

\- Day 81 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Power

\- Year Long Scavenger Hunt: B-28 (pairing) Bellatrix Lestrange/Lucius Malfoy

 **Pairings/Characters:** Bellatrix Lestrange/Lucius Malfoy

 **Word Count:** 399

* * *

 **Gasoline**

 _I'm trying, I'm trying, to let you know just how much you mean to me._

Right after Narcissa Black had accepted Lucius's proposal of marriage, the pair embraced stiffly. Over her shoulder, Lucius's pale eyes met the dark ones of his new fiance's older sister.

It was as though no one else was in the room. _She_ was the one Lucius wanted to marry. _She_ was the one who exuded power and allure and darkness, and would be a fitting wife and a fitting matriarch for the new generation of Malfoys. He would be proud for her to bear his children, and as his gaze lingered on her wide hips, he knew that she would certainly be able to carry strong, healthy heirs.

But unfortunately, Narcissa was his only choice. The princess who was made of glass, whom Lucius was terrified to hold too tightly for fear of shattering her. He almost dreaded consummating their marriage, for he knew that she would be cold to the touch, and hollow once penetrated.

Warmth simply radiated from Bellatrix, even though he knew her heart was blacker and colder than anyone else's, possibly even challenging the heart belonging to the Dark Lord. It was as though burning gasoline pulsated through her veins instead of blood, causing every pore to boil.

Lucius allowed his gaze to slide along Bellatrix to the man who stood by her side. Rodolphus Lestrange, the one who had the pleasure to call her his wife. Lucius ached with jealousy as he watched Rodolphus and Bellatrix stand together, clapping in the aftermath of Lucius and Narcissa's engagement. The only thing that provided him slight relief from the jealousy was the knowledge that Bellatrix had only married Rodolphus with the intention of keeping her family name pure, and for Rodolphus, the marriage meant that he was now linked to the exquisite House of Black. Their lack of children caused Lucius to hope that _their_ marriage hadn't been consummated, but Lucius knew better than to hold such hopes. Bellatrix wasn't human, she was animalistic in nature. She would need the primal intimacy of sex to keep her blood boiling.

But Rodolphus simply couldn't appreciate her, not like Lucius could. It was too late for him. As he looked at his future wife, with her ivory skin and pale, slender limbs, he knew he had to grin and bear his fate.


End file.
